Getting Away From It All
by Sevandor1
Summary: After being raised in prison, being a supervillain, and working hard to be accepted as a hero, Megamind learns about rest, vacations, and relaxation — and in the process discovers what he wants most out of life. Now complete.
1. The Problem

Disclaimer: This is original non-profit fan work, intended solely for the entertainment of the readers, and in no way intends any infringement on any copyrights, trademarks, or licenses held by Dreamworks Animation SKG, Alan Schoolcroft, Brent Simons, or the holders of any other legal rights or licenses pertaining to Megamind.

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_Author's Note: This continues in my same fanverse as all my previous stories, set approximately two years after the defeat of Titan. While I am aware of the existence of the Doom Syndicate and such villains as were created by the folks at Dreamworks and the comic book, I'm letting them have that part of this sandbox for their own, as I prefer the artistic freedom to invent my own troublemakers (aside from our beloved blue-skinned troublemaker!). Just a personal quirk. Enjoy!_

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_In our play, we reveal what kind of people we are._

_Ovid_

I  
The Problem

It couldn't last forever. Minion had known it right from the start, and he'd been dreading it — very, very privately, because he knew that if he breathed even one word of what he was thinking to Megamind, his mercurial ward would take it to the extreme, and begin worrying so much that he'd find a way to make things even worse.

Really, it wasn't _such_ a big deal; Minion knew this in his heart of hearts. From all he'd seen and heard, it happened in all relationships, be they with friends, lovers, families, what have you. Sooner or later, there would come tensions, and disagreements, and fights. They happened. Nobody was perfect, after all, and the more stress one had in one's life, the easier it was for even the smallest friction to rub itself into an inferno all out of proportion with reality.

And so, it had finally happened between the Boss and Ms Ritchi, whom Minion was now happily permitted to call Ms Roxanne (which was the closest accommodation he could achieve between his own natural politeness and her request that he call her by her given name). Not with a huge fight or a single incident, but with bickering. Sniping. Emotional skins worn thin by stress and strain until the tiniest scratch seemed like a huge wound. Then the separating — not to the point where Roxanne moved out again, nor to the point where Megamind considered kicking her out, but to the point where they were retreating to separate corners at night, one or the other stalking off after a round of unpleasant verbal sparring, to sleep in the second bedroom without the other. Some nights, one of them would end the self-imposed exile before long and sneak back to join the other at some point during the night, to apologize and reconcile. Sometimes the night of cooling off would let their common sense (or what passed for it) prevail, and come morning, there would follow the apologizing and the making up. It always happened, so Minion had no real concern that their relationship was headed toward permanent disaster.

There was no doubt that the couple still loved one another, quite devotedly. That was not the problem; it was _never_ the problem, even when Megamind got carried away once in a while with fits of jealousy when other men dared to flirt with Roxanne, or when Roxanne felt that Megamind wasn't taking a firm enough stand with some of his female groupies. They were both possessive as well as protective, and sometimes had trouble sharing their significant other with the rest of the world. Strangely, those things weren't actually problems, as any arguments they caused resolved themselves in a matter of minutes. It was the mounting stress of their work lives that was the real issue.

Being a superhero or a star reporter was never an easy job, but ever since the beginning of April, the level of that stress had ramped up dramatically. It started when Roxanne's bosses at work had decided to give her a promotion into a position admirably suited to her skills, that of a full time investigative reporter and interviewer on the order of Barbara Walters at the height of her career. It was a challenge Roxanne was eager to take on, not for itself alone but because it took her off the regular street reporter routine and allowed her to enjoy a somewhat more secure lifestyle. But the amount of work involved was tremendous, even though she only did a special report or an in-depth interview twice a month. Some of the obstacles to be overcome were more difficult than she had imagined, but she was determined to make this work, and Megamind had been perfectly supportive of it.

For his part, there had been an equally dramatic shift in his own work, since beginning of April. Following the absurd reappearance of Nico Teen at the charity benefit in late March, a small band of vastly more competent villains had made their presence known in Metro City, a threesome that picked up the collective moniker of the Terror Trio. Commanding powers of destructive sound, powerful lightning, and extreme temperature control — calling themselves UltraMach, AmpeRage, and Hyperthermia — they had made the lives of everyone in Metro City miserable with random attacks that were designed to undermine the morale of the citizens and seriously shake any confidence they had in their current defender. And, to Megamind's annoyance, they were good, especially when it came to eluding capture, as they were able to use their powers in tandem to thwart the blue hero's efforts to catch them. For the better part of four months, their reign of random terror went on, until finally, during a horrible natural heat wave in mid-July, Megamind was able to get a break in the case, in the form of a bit of broken technology that had been left behind during a fearsome battle in which he had managed to force the three to give up and run rather than destroy City Hall.

To almost anyone else, the piece of debris would have told them precious little about the trio of villains, but to Megamind, it was a goldmine of information. For one thing, it told him that his adversaries were device-dependent supers rather than ones in possession of personal powers beyond the norm. This meant that they were ordinary humans under their tremendously effective gadgetry, not even in possession of the few superhuman abilities that the alien genius could boast. For another, the materials from which the broken bit had been made were a good indication of where it had been manufactured. Most importantly, the designs of even so small a bit of circuitry and mechanics were red flags telling him a great deal of how their devices of power and mayhem worked.

After that, it had been a question of time, to devise effective ways to render those devices powerless, to lull them into thinking that they had him outfoxed, then to wait until all three of them tried to take him on at once in a final battle royale for the control of Metro City. At that point, Megamind, with the help of Minion and a small army of brainbots, was able to unleash the countermeasures he'd created to combat their technology, and after a fierce but fortunately not overly long fight, the three were defeated and hauled off to prison.

But it hadn't been easy, no, not by a long shot. A number of the brainbots had been destroyed beyond any hope of repair, their circuits fried by lightning and then shattered by the prolonged hypersonic they had bravely faced in order to carry out their parts in the fight. Minion's robotic body had also been severely damaged in the encounter, and even with his own protections in place, Megamind had not come through the battle completely unscathed. The one thing none of his protective gear could yet handle sufficiently well was extreme heat, and the need to engage in close combat with Hyperthermia had pushed what little that gear could do beyond their limits.

He had been lucky to avoid getting more than a few minor burns from that fight, but the real hyperthermia he'd suffered had been bad enough to lay him low for a week, while his body fought to recover from the abuse. He had immediately launched into making plans to account for such attacks in the future, but for too many days, he'd simply been too exhausted to do more than get Minion settled into one of his back-up bodies while he twiddled with ideas for redesigning his sidekick's primary robot habitat.

That was late July, and by then, both Megamind and Roxanne were suffering from an excess of stress, frayed nerves, and just plain exhaustion. Roxanne's station manager had wanted her to do a series of in-depth reports to be aired during August and September, and he'd wanted them completed by the end of July. She'd finished the work five days early, but only following a considerable push of extra-intense effort. During that final high tension week, the sniping and bickering between the couple got worse, as did the periods of upset for Minion while the alien fish could do nothing but watch his two friends mope and be sad or be angry and upset over the awful rut they couldn't seem to get out of.

Finally, at wits' end, he decided it was time to seek advice. Not exactly sure who he could talk to about it, Minion ended up going to the closest thing to a mutual sympathetic friend that they had: Wayne Scott.

To his surprise, the retired hero seemed to understand the situation perfectly, and told Minion so over a lunch they shared one afternoon at Wayne's hideout. "It's all stress — the downside of the whole superhero gig, one regular people don't think about very often. When you're a hero, you're supposed to be above all that, immune to it. Happens to celebrities in Roxie's position, too. Even people who love one another like those two do can get on each other's nerves when the stress piles on too high. Heck, my folks had the same problem, and they weren't even a tenth as gone over each other as Megs and Roxie."

"So what did they do?" Minion wondered, taking it all in. He was in the nicest of his various back-up suits, one that came closest to a human body, albeit a very strong human body. It had been designed to mimic certain aspects of Metro Man, as it had been part of another failed plot some five years ago. While Minion rather liked it — it was his only cybernetic habitat that could wear real clothing without looking ridiculous — it had been kept out of action since that failed plan because it reminded his ward too strongly of his nemesis and his seemingly endless doom of never defeating him. That Megamind was willing to let the thing come out of retirement now could either be a good or bad thing, and at the moment, Minion wasn't sure which it was. "What did _you _do? Before you decided to retire, that is."

Wayne grinned. "What normal people do: take a vacation, get away from all the usual faces and the daily grind for a while. It wasn't so easy for me, with the city always counting on me, but I managed it, when there were lulls in the action. They always happened, and I just had to be ready to take advantage of them when they came. And that's what my parents did, especially when they got on each other's nerves. They've got vacation places all over the country, and they take world tours from time to time, too. Sometimes separately, if they needed to cool off bad enough."

"I'm sure things aren't that bad between Sir and Ms Roxanne," was Minion's almost certain opinion. "They never go more than a day before making up — less, really — but it's been happening so often, almost every day now, that I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before it _does _get worse. I don't want to see that happen if there's anything I can do to help."

"You're a good friend, Minion, to both of them," Wayne approved, wistfully wishing _he'd_ had such a friend all his life. He scratched his chin as he chewed a big bite of his laser-vision grilled burger, then swallowed. "It's gotten that bad with the two of 'em, huh? Then I think it's _definitely_ vacation time, a good, long vacation — and by that I mean rest, relaxation, not the kind of package deal the travel industry likes to sell, where you need to take more time off when you get back just to recover from it. Megs has been working his little blue butt off for over two years straight, now, and I know it's been pretty much the same for Roxie, first fighting to get considered for a promotion, then working overtime to prove to her bosses that they didn't make a mistake giving it to her. When they went to Summerfest last year — wasn't that supposed to be a pleasure trip?"

Minion nodded. "For Sir, yes, and a little bit for Ms Roxanne. But it didn't turn out that way because of everything that happened, and that was the last time they were able to get away from the city when work wasn't involved."

"And when was the last time before that?"

The ichthyoid had to think about it while he munched on the — amusing, he thought — crab nuggets the former Metro Man had provided for his lunch. He chewed on both his thoughts and the tasty crab meat for a bit. "I don't know about Ms Roxanne," he confessed at length, "not for sure. I know that before Sir decided to give up being evil, she did go away from time to time, on work assignments and to visit with her family, but from the way she talks about them these days, I don't think the visits were always pleasant for her."

"They weren't," Wayne confirmed, a little sadly. "Her folks were divorced, and they had strong opinions about what their little girl should be doing with her life. To be honest with you, neither of them liked Megs, or me. We kept messing up her life, and I have to admit, they had a point. And most of it was my fault. Your boss had a grudge against me, and it wasn't unjustified. If I'd been nicer to him when the two of you first showed up at school, we could've been working together as friends all these years, instead of doing this stupid hero and villain shtick. I wasn't fair at all to Megs, turning him into the bad guy just because I had this idea that _I _was going to be the hero, so somebody had to be the villain. I was a stupid kid, I admit it, and I was such a spoiled brat, I wasn't willing to let anybody share in my glory. And because of that, Roxie got dragged into the middle of it when I did another stupid thing."

Minion was quiet for a moment before answering. "You _did _deliberately take advantage of Ms Roxanne's trauma to make her think you'd saved her that day, when she was attacked by the Bradford gang in that alley in Gangland, didn't you?"

Wayne hesitated, then nodded. "I even let her believe the people who told her Megamind must've set that blast where she thought she'd been hurt. I know he told me he didn't want anyone to know he'd saved her, but I carried it too far. I'm just glad that the two of them are together now. I know he felt something for her right off the bat, I could see it by the way he talked about her and looked after her in that alley. He really did care, in a way I'd never seen him care about anybody but you before. If I hadn't interfered, worming my way into the picture and letting people think she and I had something going, I think that maybe he would've given up the Game a long time ago. All these years, right from the start, he's just been trying to get people to accept him. If they wouldn't love him, he'd make them hate him. It's better than nothing — but it's not the way things should've been. We should've been friends, not enemies. I was too stupid to see it when I could've done something to make a real difference. And I should never have misled Roxie like that, and let her think there was nothing good in Megs. I knew better."

For what felt like ages, Minion could only look at the former hero, truly surprised. At length, he let loose a tiny sigh. "You should be telling this to Sir and Ms Roxanne, not to me, Mr. Scott. They're the ones you hurt, after all. Especially Sir."

Wayne smiled crookedly. "I know. But I thought it would be easier to tell you first — call it a dress rehearsal, to see how you took it. I'll tell Megs, I promise — but I don't think this is the right time, not when he's stressed out to the max and so's Roxie. She hasn't had a real vacation for at least five years, and I don't know when's the last time he did."

"Never, really," the fishy sidekick admitted. "The closest we ever got to that was a month we spent hiding out in an abandoned furniture store in Ludington, after you and he had one of your first big fights, before he'd found ways to protect himself from being injured so much. Even though we escaped, Sir was pretty badly beat up, and he needed time to recover in peace, so we stole a car and kept going until we could find a safe place to hide. We found the empty store and stayed there, but it wasn't really a vacation. Sir was hurt, and all I could do was take care of him while he got better. It wasn't easy, because we had very little money, and I had to sneak out at night to find food and supplies, since we didn't have the holowatches back then. It was quiet, but it wasn't enjoyable."

"So he's never had a real vacation, at all?"

"No. Really, Mr. Scott, just think about it. He lived in a prison from the day he arrived on Earth, and until he got the disguise generator to work, where could he have gone? Even if people didn't know him as a villain, there would have been a lot of stares and fear and probably ridicule. When he was young, nobody knew who or what he was, and once they _did_ know who he was, they hated him because he was the bad guy. Since he stopped that and they've started to accept him, there just hasn't been enough time to take a break, or when we try, things happen, like they did last year. Even now, if he went somewhere, it would have to be under a disguise to keep people from bothering him, and he and Ms Roxanne really hate doing that."

"I don't blame them," the ex-hero agreed. "Sounds to me like they need a place where it's quiet enough so that trouble won't come looking for them, but with enough to do so they can do more than just kick back, if that's what they want." He considered the puzzle, then grinned. "And I think I have just the place."

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_To be continued… _


	2. The Intervention

_AN: Thanks, reviewers, your comments and encouragement are appreciated! Onward!_

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II  
The Intervention

"Okay, let me see if I've got this straight," Roxanne said to the unlikely pair of conspirators that had summoned her and Megamind to a meeting in the lab/garage portion of the Lair, since the blue genius was in the middle of running a test on an upgraded heat-repulsing version of his force shield and refused to leave until the cycle was complete. For some reason, Minion and Wayne had been unwilling to put this off, so Roxanne had reluctantly made the sacrifice and let herself be pried away from the research she'd been doing for a projected report in October. She was none too pleased to be the one whose work had been interrupted, and her glare was for all three of the assorted alien males, not a one of whom seemed to have a clue as to how much this annoyed her. "I was right in the middle of an important call, doing research for my job, and you dragged me down here to tell me I need a vacation? Are you out of your minds?"

"Whoa there, put on the brakes, Roxie," Wayne suggested when he could see her simmer starting to roll into a boil. "I didn't say 'you' meaning just _you;_ I meant both you _and_ Megs. And seeing how you're just about to blow your stack and he's giving me a look that might actually do me some real damage if he keeps it up, I'd say Minion should've told me about this a month ago, at least! When the heck did the two of you suddenly get married to your jobs like this? I know, you've both got important work to do," he forestalled when both of them opened their mouths to retort, "but cripes, even I never let it get _this _bad! Have either of you bothered to look in a mirror, lately?"

"Of course!" came out of both mouths in the exact same second, in the exact same way, causing the couple to look at one another, first with indignation, then with a sudden awareness of what the retired hero meant. The shocked silence and wide eyes that followed spoke volumes.

Minion sighed, his fins flittering with anxiety. "You see what I mean, Mr. Scott? They've been like this for weeks, they don't even see what's happening, how... sick it's making them."

"I'm not sick, Minion!" Megamind snapped, irritated by what he felt was needless coddling, and the failure of his just completed test. He slapped the switch to shut down the blowtorch inside the small test chamber, where the overwhelmed force field had collapsed yet again, allowing the various flammable objects it had been supposed to protect to disintegrate into a pile of smoking ashes. Frustrated, he kicked the base of the control panel so hard, he started hopping on one foot rather than put his weight back down onto the foot he'd just managed to bruise.

With a sad shake of his head, Wayne picked up the much smaller alien and planted him onto a nearby chair, where Megamind glared at the big lug in embarrassed outrage. Roxanne made a noise that was suspiciously like a strangled laugh, only until the ex-hero did the same to her, pulling a second chair beside Megamind's and plopping her in it. He then struck his best Champion of Justice pose in front of them, arms crossed as he fixed the pair with a frown, the principal staring down two delinquent students, eyes smoldering and threatening beneath beetled brows.

"Don't give me that crap, either one of you," he said sternly, "and don't take it out on Minion, either. He came to me because he cares about you two idiots, and if you can't see that you're driving yourselves over the edge with stress and exhaustion, then maybe the two of us should just leave you to yourselves until you really _do _collapse. It won't be more than week, tops. I guarantee it."

Megamind had been about to point out that Wayne had no idea of what it felt or looked like to be exhausted when his glance fell upon Roxanne again, stopping the words before he so much as took the breath to say them. She did look very tired, the signs of it worse than he could ever remember seeing on her before, and it troubled him. He cleared his throat. "I'm all right," he said evasively. "But you do have a point about Roxanne..."

"About me?" was her comeback, which began hotly, only to quickly cool when she looked at her beau. The blue alien was looking more gray than blue these days, which combined with a general lack of energy was becoming more than slightly alarming to her. "What about you?" she continued somewhat more calmly, the heat channeled in a different direction. "If I've been working myself to the bone, you've been killing yourself, especially this past month! You're no more all right than I am and you know it!"

Reluctantly, the ex-villain nodded. "Point taken: neither of us are really 'all right.'" He turned his green-eyed gaze to Minion and Wayne. "So why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Sir, I _tried," _Minion said as emphatically as he could without being offensive. "Neither of you would listen, and you both really did have important things that needed to be done, so I didn't push it. But is it _still_ important for you to keep working so hard and not give yourselves a break? Is the city still in danger _right now,_ sir? Do you really _need _to work so hard on a project for October right away, Ms Roxanne? Can't either of you _please _understand that you need to rest for a while, before you hurt yourselves permanently? Before you hurt each other worse than you already have?"

His unvarnished worry had an immediate effect on both the errant lovers. They looked first at each other, expressions full of apology, then turned those same faces to their fishy friend. "I'm sorry, Minion," Megamind said a split second before Roxanne echoed him. "You're right, as usual, and speaking for myself, I've been wrong to ignore you. You've had my best interests at heart all our lives, and by now, I should know better than to shut you out like that. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

The ichthyoid's small heart warmed to hear such words, which little more than two years ago would have had difficulty getting past his master's lips. It was strange to think it possible, but moments such as this made it clear that the blue genius who had seemed to be forever a selfish juvenile was finally growing up, at least in this way. "It's okay, sir," he began, only to be forestalled by Roxanne.

"No, it's not okay, Minion, for either of us. And I don't have the excuse of being...well," she amended, realizing that there was a fourth person in the room who probably knew nothing about the nature of Megamind's parent race, and the fact that they did not reach full maturity until their latter thirties. "Let's just say I _really _should know better than to behave so badly. You care about us, and I appreciate that. You're right, I _have _been going overboard with work, trying to prove myself more than I need to." She let loose an expansive sigh. "My boss said the same thing just yesterday. He doesn't want me to burn myself out, and he knows I haven't had a real vacation in _way_ too long. He's afraid that if I don't take a break soon, he'll get OSHA or my union coming after him."

"Good for him," Megamind approved. When Roxanne frowned at him, he frowned right back. "Well, he's right!" the reformed villain insisted. "Your job has always been difficult, I certainly didn't make it any easier for years, and it's not fair for you to keep working and working without a break!"

"And is it fair for you to do the same thing?" the brunette shot back. "At least _my _job isn't putting my life in danger day after day, not anymore, and for crying out loud, nobody's even _paying _you to do what you do! If you didn't have more money than God squirreled away, nobody would be thinking twice about where your next meal's coming from, never mind that you're doing more for the city than the entire police force and getting squat for it!"

"But that's _my_ choice! I've got years of causing trouble to make amends for, and I don't _care _whether or not I get _renoomeration _for it! You _earn _what you get, and more, and you _need _the time off! You're _entitled _to it!"

"So are you!"

"But you—"

"Whoa, hold on, just a sec, time out!" Wayne bellowed, bizarrely shocked and amused by what he had just witnessed. "Sweet creeping Christ on a crutch, is _this _the kind of fighting you've been doing so much of that you're driving a fish to drink? You're arguing that the _other_ guy's job is tougher?"

"Well, isn't it?" Megamind blurted out before Roxanne had a chance. "You and I didn't exactly make her life a picnic for over ten years, and now her manager's got the hot idea that she's going to be the next Baba Wawa and make the whole station famous!"

"And don't _you_ have the mayor _and_ the county exec _and_ the governor already expecting you to fill a superhero's oversized shoes when you don't even _have _superpowers?" Roxanne fired back, not to be outdone.

This time, Wayne whistled shrilly to stop the war before it escalated. When the two combatants scowled at him, then had the decency to look a little sheepish at the way both he and Minion were frowning back, the retired hero shook his head. "And _this_ is what they've been driving you nuts with for over a month?" he asked Minion.

The fish made an equivocal gesture, his fins waggling much like his robotic hand. "Not entirely, but yeah, it's been about... oh, seventy or eighty percent of it, and the rest isn't a whole lot different."

Wayne groaned. "No wonder you can't get them to listen to reason — there's nothing reasonable about this!" He fixed the frazzled couple with a steely eye. "Okay, you two, I think we've all heard just about enough of this nonsense. You're both so stressed out you're not even seeing straight, if you're seeing at all."

Megamind's frown returned. "I still say you of all people are _not _qualified to make that kind of _amatoorish_ diagnosis! What do _you _know about stress or being sick or even tired, Mr. I'm _So _Much Better Than Mere Mortals? Even back in _shkool, _you never missed a single day with so much as a sneeze or a sniffle!"

The former Metro Man sighed. "I know a lot more than you think, little buddy. Stress? Okay, I may not know how it gets to you physically from first hand experience, but I could write you half a dozen books on how it eats away at you from the inside and wears down your soul. Why do you think I retired from the hero biz? I didn't pick it, it picked me, and that's like getting stuck for life in an arranged marriage to a major celebrity. Sometimes, the attention and the spotlights feel good, other times they're just... a trap. The kind of trap that chews you up and spits you out, then chews you up and spits you out all over again and again."

He found a work stool under the nearby lab table, pulled it over, and sat down facing his old nemesis and his never girlfriend, elbows on his knees and loosely twined hands dangling between them. "That's _my _problem; I'm not saying it's yours. I know you've wanted to be a reporter all your life, Roxie, and Megs, I kinda hate to say it, but you were always better cut out to be a hero than I ever was. I've got the superpowers, sure, but you've got the heart, you always did, and I've always been jealous of you for it."

The frown on the blue face relaxed into a look of mere skepticism. "It certainly never seemed that way," he observed with considerable doubt. "To me, it looked like you always hated me because you needed someone to be the villain to your hero, and who better than a person who'd be an easy target because he would _never_ fit in?"

The accuracy of that remark wrung an uneasy half-cough, half-laugh from Wayne. He glanced up at Minion. The ichthyoid was watching with silent but very keen interest, and the look he gave the musician in response clearly said _it's now or never. _Wayne got the point; he took a deep breath before turning back to the waiting couple. Roxanne was wearing her best "I'm a reporter and I'm going to get to the bottom of this, so don't you even _think_ of backing out" demeanor, while Megamind was plainly daring him to tell the truth without believing for a second that he would.

Wayne had to give the little guy points: in a lot of ways, Megamind understood his adversary better than the retired hero had ever even tried to understand him. Without the two of them staring him down and Minion standing at his back with a virtual cattle prod, he probably _would _have opted to evade and avoid, yet again.

Man, why did life have to be so complicated?

Finally, Wayne took a deep, deep breath, then sighed. "Okay, okay," he surrendered. "Time to come clean. I'll start with you, Roxie, 'cause it's less complicated. I know you know I never was really straight with you about telling people we weren't ever a couple. I liked them thinking we were, I admit it, because for one, I liked to believe I _could _get a girl who was good looking and even smarter than she was pretty. What guy with any brains _doesn't _want that? But to do it, I had to let you think some things about Megs that weren't true."

Roxanne snorted. "If you're talking about him not setting the blast I wasn't even in and actually saving me from a gang of thugs who wanted to rape me before killing me, I already know that. I don't _like _that you let me believe it, but I know I was hurt pretty bad, and my mind needed to forget the truth for a while."

Wayne nodded. "Yeah, that's true, though I could've said something later, when you were in better shape to handle it. But that's not the whole picture. I knew that he cared about you back then, even if he didn't realize it himself." From the corner of his eye, he could see Megamind's own green eyes widen with a kind of befuddled shock. He had to struggle to contain his smile. "Knowing that, it was just... wrong for me to play you for the sake of my own image. I should've told you what I knew, but I'd dug myself into a pretty deep hole, and the longer I put off saying anything, the deeper it got, 'til I just couldn't see how it was possible to climb back out and set things straight again. And when I finally _did_ decide it was time to put a stop to the whole mess, I know the way I picked to do it was really rotten, especially to you guys. But I swear to you, Roxie, I'm on the level now. And I can't tell you how _glad _I am that the two of you managed to find a way to get together, in spite of the mess I made. I know you've been pissed off at me, and I deserve it. I don't expect this will wipe the slate clean for me, but I guess I just couldn't keep avoiding the truth. I don't want you to hurt anymore because of me."

While Roxanne struggled to take in this admission of guilt, which was something a part of her had never expected Wayne to have the courage to actually do, he turned to Megamind. "And that goes way more than double for you, little buddy. I've screwed up your life right from the start. I mean, okay, I didn't have anything to do with that black hole or whatever you say sucked up our planets, and I don't even remember anything about coming to Earth. I just know it happened because _you_ remember, and because my folks hung onto that escape pod I came in. To tell you the truth, I thought it was a toy rocketship they had made for me, until I got a look at it when I was in college and figured out that it sure as heck was no toy! But whether or not I knew anything about where I was born, that day you first came to school when we were both five, I acted like a total spoiled brat. There you were, smiling and happy and practically begging us all to just like you with those big eyes of yours, and what'd I do? I had to play kid hero and decide that you were the bad guy, just because you looked different and were wearing a prison jumpsuit. Even then, I had enough brains to know that no five year old kid is _really _an inmate! I should've looked past that, I should've asked _why _you were dressed like that, and if I had, the rest of the class would've followed my lead, like they always did.

"But I didn't, and I ruined your life. Oh, yeah, I know, you made your own rotten choices later on, but that first time, I didn't _give _you a choice. Long before you set off that silly paint bomb, I should've acted like a _real _hero, and asked you to be my friend. But I didn't even give you a chance, and I know there's no way I'll ever really be able to make up for that. And I'm not just saying this 'cause I've got a guilty conscience, though Lord knows I do. I'm saying it because it's the truth, and because I realized a long, long time ago that I wish we _had _been friends."

That statement came as a complete surprise to the ex-villain, who for some moments could only blink while he searched for his voice. Over the past two years, he and the former Metro Man had achieved a certain degree of amiability in their relationship, but one would be hard pressed to call it an actual friendship. Megamind had at first endured the occasional meeting with Wayne for Roxanne's sake, since the reporter had been determined to get the retired hero to come clean about his "death" so that Megamind would be cleared of any unjust charges of murder. Once Wayne returned from the dead, he had then tolerated occasional meetings with his ex-nemesis for the sake of his own public image, as well as Roxanne's firm belief that the hero turned musician stilled owed them, big time. The former hero had helped his replacement in testing new equipment on two notable occasions, and they even saw one another socially from time to time, but there was nothing truly friendly about it — or had he been mistaken? "You — you _do?" _the blue alien managed to squeak out with some effort. "Why?"

Wayne's laugh was wry. "Well, not because you've been such fun to know, these past twenty-odd years — though maybe that's not so far off the mark. All your plans may have flopped because I was the cookie that just couldn't be crumbled, but even when you were being a major pain in the butt, I had to hand it to you: you had guts, and something inside you that just wouldn't quit,_ and _you were smart as hell. Most of the time, I couldn't even figure out what the gizmos you came up with were supposed to do, and I _never _had even a clue about how they worked, or even _could _work. If I hadn't been such a butthead as a kid, we could've been friends working together instead of enemies going at each other's throats like a couple of dogs fighting over a rubber pork chop — sorry, Roxie. That's something I didn't really figure out until right near the end. You weren't ever trying to _kill _me; you just wanted me to go away so you'd stop having to forever live in my shadow."

He scratched the back of his head, uneasy. "Which kinda goes to show you how much I could've used someone with your brains in my life. I finally got the point, and then I came up with the worst 'solution' in history."

It was plain by now that Megamind was sharing some measure of that discomfort. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it the _worst _solution," he allowed, rather charitably. "What other options did you have?"

Wayne sighed yet again. "Not many, but the one I should've tried first was the same one I should've tried from the start. Even before you pulled out your death ray thing — weeks before, when I started feeling stuck in a rut — I could've asked you to be my friend. I could've _shared, _like I should've done back in kindergarten. I suppose it didn't have much of a chance of working; after so many years of us fighting, you probably would've thought it was some kind of lame trick."

Megamind conceded the point. "I probably would have."

Wayne was grateful for the admission, though he wasn't letting himself off the hook so easily, not now that he'd finally worked up the nerve to go through with this. "But that still doesn't mean I shouldn't've tried. I _am _sorry, Megs, for everything I put you and Minion through, and for everything this city and good people like Roxie had to suffer because I was too danged selfish and full of myself to be a hero the first time we met, when it really mattered. I'm not asking you to forgive me now; I know that if it ever happens, it'll take time. Right now, I'm just asking you to let me help you out. I know what the job you've taken on is like, and I want to do what I can to give you a hand when you need it."

For a while, nobody said anything; the only sounds in the Lair were the indefinable mumbles of various devices at work and the distant bowgs of brainbots either carrying out assigned tasks or doing what they did to pass the time when they were not out on city patrol or in recharge. Wayne waited tensely for someone else to speak first, to accept what he had offered, argue with it, or tell him to get lost. Minion and Roxanne were both watching Megamind, since what happened next was more his call than anyone else's.

For his own part, the alien genius was studying a scorched spot on the back of one of his lab gloves, not really seeing what his eyes were focused upon. Even though a large part of him was still reluctant to believe what he'd just heard — while he had always had a certain grudging respect for his adversary, he had never really trusted him — deep down, he had to admit that he'd always wondered about what might have been, had Wayne extended him the hand of friendship when they'd met in that schoolhouse so many years ago. To have the support of a peer, someone other than Minion, someone who could have helped him implement all the dreams he'd had as a child and in his youth... Oh, yes, there was an undeniably strong appeal to such a fantasy. But that dream had died a hard and painful death during the brief months he'd endured in that same schoolhouse, and he wasn't quite sure he was ready to risk rebuilding a bridge that had been destroyed before it had even been completed, at Wayne's own hands.

If he had to be completely frank with himself, he didn't know if he had the courage to take such a big chance.

But then, he'd thought that he himself had destroyed any possibility of even friendship with Roxanne, by subjecting her to nearly twelve years' worth of kidnappings and general disruption of her life. And yet now, she was the most precious thing in _his_ life.

Perhaps lightning could strike the same spot in the same way more than once, after all.

At length, he let his breath whistle out through his teeth. "I can't promise anything," the blue hero admitted. "But I don't suppose it would kill me to let you try to help."

From the way a huge grin split Wayne's face, he understood the gift he'd been given. "Thanks, little buddy, all I'm asking for is a chance to make things as right as I can."

Megamind snorted, a crooked smile tugging up one corner of his lips almost into a sneer. "If that's what you want, then you can start by _never_ calling me that again! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

The ex-hero was vaguely shamefaced. "Sorry, Megs, I know, you've told me you don't like it..."

"I'm not all that fond of _that, _either! I have a name, you know!"

"Aw, c'mon, you can't expect people to go around calling you 'Megamind' every day for the rest of your life! That'd be like calling Roxie 'Reporter,' or Minion... well, hey, sorry about that, maybe your people _did _get named for their jobs. I never thought about that before."

It was Megamind's turn to look faintly sheepish, while both Roxanne and Minion came to his defense. "Come on, Wayne," the former chided, having decided that while she was willing to accept his apology, he still had a lot of making up to do. "It's not like Megamind had adoptive parents to teach him about real Earth names!"

"And it's not Sir's fault that I don't remember the name I had before we were sent here," Minion added. "I wasn't that much older than him to begin with, and the word for _protector _that his mother called me _does _sound a lot like 'minion.' Besides, sir," he told his chagrined ward, "I've never minded it at all. The way you say it isn't quite the same way everyone else does; it's more like the word your mother used. And I think that's a pretty good name. That it happens to sound sort of like another Earth word..." He shrugged, knowing that his boss would catch the implication.

Megamind made a sound that was something like a cough, glancing from his oldest friend to his newest love. They both answered with looks and gestures clearing saying that the choice was his. He continued to chew on it for a bit, then decided that if he was going to try to build some kind of trust in his former foe, this was as good a place to start as any. He fixed Wayne with a stern, I'm-not-kidding semi-glare. "This is _not _for public ears," he warned, doing a better job of seeming truly threatening than he ever had as a villain. "So if ever I hear of you repeating it outside of my presence, I will make it my personal mission in life to provide the media with as many embarrassing stories about you as they could ever want. Understand?"

For a moment, Wayne was about to shrug off the threat as being a matter of little consequence, until he remembered a few genuinely humiliating incidents to which the only witness had been Megamind. He particularly recalled a hastily postponed battle that had happened during the spring just before they'd first met Roxanne, in which a horrible wardrobe malfunction in Metro Man's latest costume had sent Megamind into throes of uncontrollable laughter, and had sent Wayne hightailing it away even before the fight had begun, to save himself the agony of being seen and recorded in such an embarrassing state of...

Well, it had been humiliating, and to this day, Wayne suspected his blue nemesis had somehow recorded the incident and was just waiting for the worst moment possible to unleash it on the world. And it wasn't the only such thing Megamind had in that potential arsenal. He'd been secretly grateful that the little guy had never thrown any of it back at him just to undermine his public image, though he also figured that childish as he could be, Megamind wasn't petty, not in that way.

With that in mind, he nodded gravely. "Got it," he vowed, as earnest as he knew how to be.

For his own part, Megamind knew that his old adversary was not a liar, and accepted the promise. "My name — my _real _name, the one my parents gave me — is Mykaal."

Wayne blinked. "Michael? That's the big secret? Sheesh, I must know a couple of thousand guys named Michael..."

Roxanne smothered a laugh; Megamind made an exasperated "here we go again" face. "No, not Michael. Mykaal. Mee-kahl, M-Y-K-double A-L, accent on the second syllable. _Not _'Michael.'"

"Mikul," Wayne repeated, still putting the emphasis on the first syllable, shortening the two As into less than one and mangling the long E sound of the Y.

Megamind dragged one hand across his face. "I _knew _this was a bad idea," he muttered, ready to give up until Roxanne pressed a kiss to his cheek in encouragement. He sighed. "You're supposedly a musician, Wayne, don't you have _any _kind of an ear?"

"Well, I didn't have much formal training," the big lug admitted. "And I kinda hate to admit it, but super hearing doesn't seem to include a super sense of pitch. Say it again, li— buddy. A little slower."

The inhumanly green eyes rolled, but their owner did as requested, enunciating slowly and clearly. "Not MY-kull; mee-KAHL. Ah-ahl, actually, but that's not an ordinary sound in English. Mee-KAHL. What is so incredibly hard about that?"

Roxanne giggled, while Wayne muttered under his breath, practicing. "Nothing, sweetie," she assured him. "It's just an American English thing. If we ever go to Hawaii, I'll bet the only people who'd have trouble with it would be the tourists. Same thing in Scandanavia and Eastern Europe. A lot of those languages have vowel sounds we don't use here."

"Okay, I think I've got it!" Wayne all but shouted, then suddenly frowned. "No, wait, it's not Meekal, is it?" he said, still putting the accent on the wrong syllable. Megamind opened his mouth to either correct him or tell him to just give it up, but the ex-hero waved him off. "No, no, I can get this, I can get this!" He resumed mumbling for a few moments, then carefully made another attempt. "Meeeeee — _kahhhhl," _he finally said, like a high speed recording being run at quarter speed. He repeated it four more times, getting a bit faster with each repetition, then at last said it at reasonably normal speed. "Mykaal. Hey, it's not really that tough, is it? Sort of like the Russian version, isn't it? Mikhail Gorba-something, the guy who used to be their president or whatever? Is that it? Mikhail?"

"It's close enough," Megamind surrendered, unwilling to submit to further mangling of his name.

For some odd reason, this brought a huge grin to Wayne's face. "Oh, hey, that's _great, _then! Where I'm thinking of sending you two will be perfect!"

"You're thinking of sending us to Russia?" Roxanne asked. "That's not such a perfect idea, Wayne. Mykaal still has some travel issues even inside the country because of the federal pardons that still haven't gone through. There's no way he could get a passport."

"Nah, that's not what I was thinking," she was promptly assured. "This is your first real vacation in ages, and Megs' first vacation ever, from what Minion said." The blue alien wrinkled his nose at Wayne's persistent nickname for him, but he decided it was better to just give it up for now. "I also know what it's like when you're new to any big job with a lot of responsibility. Even when you can get the time off, you worry about going too far away, in case something really important goes down and you need to head back in a hurry. When you can't fly like I can, there have to be some limits, just so you can let go of that worry and relax. Am I right?"

"You're right," Roxanne said, aware that she was speaking for both of them. "So where you planning to send us? Chicago?"

Wayne laughed even as he shook his head. "No, you need a change of scenery, and since you're both urbanites to the core, another big city wouldn't be much of a change at all. Like I told Minion, my folks have vacation houses and summer homes all over the world. When my dad died last year, Mom decided to start selling off some of 'em, just to make it easier for her to keep track of everything. My first thought was to send you up to Traverse Bay, but that's one Mom decided to keep, and she's spending most of August there herself. But there's another one in Sister Bay that she's about to put on the market. Pity, too, since they just had the whole place remodeled and refurnished last spring, right before Dad passed away. She hasn't been there lately, nobody's used the place since all the work was done. If I told her I had a couple of friends who were interested in it and I wanted to let them use the place for the next month to see if they like it, she wouldn't have a problem with it — just as long as you don't burn the place down or blow it up," he added, shooting Megamind a meaningful look.

His former rival answered with a wry face. "What, you'd lie to your own mother? Mr. Truth and Justice?"

Wayne spread his hands. "It's not a lie if I don't say you're interested in _buying _it. And who knows, maybe you will be, if you like it enough."

"That remains to be seen. Where is this 'Sister Bay'?"

"On the Door Peninsula," Roxanne provided. "The 'thumb' of Wisconsin," she clarified at her beau's puzzled glance. "I did a summer getaway piece on it a few years ago, after one of the big national magazines rated Door County as a top travel destination. It's still on Lake Michigan, across from the Traverse Bay area, but the whole feel of the place is different from our part of the lake. Up there, it's a lot like New England. Same sort of stony terrain, woods and pastures and orchards, little towns that could pass for some of the Cape Cod type fishing villages, things like that. It's big in the arts and things like water sports and hiking, and pretty manic when it comes to nature and preserving the environment. They've got at least three or four major state parks that I can remember from my report, and some of the freshwater estuaries up there are the cleanest parts of the whole Lake Michigan watershed. Some of the most pristine in the country, actually."

That got Minion's attention, as he'd been wanting to swim in the lake for years, but without the urban area pollution. "Really? You didn't mention that, Mr. Scott."

Wayne shrugged. "I didn't know. My folks weren't exactly greenie types. They went there because some of their friends did, it was a good place to kick back and relax without going too far from home, and they liked all the artsy stuff. Nature wasn't their thing, except for sailing. Dad enjoyed that, as long as he had a crew to do the actual work."

Megamind's eyes narrowed. "And you thought this would be a good place to send _me?_ Why? I've lived in Metro City my entire life! I don't know a thing about that kind of 'roughing it,' and I'm pretty sure that I do _not _want to learn!"

"This isn't 'roughing it,' Megs, my folks weren't into that. We're talking about a summer house, not a fishing cabin or a camping trip. But getting out of the same old rut is _exactly_ the point. Look, I didn't get it at first, either," the former hero admitted when his replacement looked apt to resume the protest. "When I was a kid, I liked the exciting places, the big fancy deals like Disney World and huge cruise ships and cities with lots of things to do and places to see, all the noise and the glamor and the hustle. It wasn't until you and I had been going at each other's throats for seven or eight years that I finally understood what my folks saw in these quieter places. You get time to slow down, smell the roses, let go and get back in touch with the good things in life, all the stuff that makes it worth living. My folks weren't exactly the closest couple in the world, but even they got a chance to reconnect with each other in places like that. Isn't that part of the whole reason for doing this? So you and Roxie can de-stress and get back on the same page with your lives — not just your jobs, but your life together?"

Startled by that insight, the couple traded glances, then flushed and winced almost simultaneously. "He has a good point," the reporter was willing to be the first to admit. "I'm sick of being _tired, _of having work suck me so dry that when I come home, all I have left is the snarky, bickering side of me. I'm tired of having the best thing we do together be making up after stupid fights."

Reluctantly, the blue head nodded. "So am I. This idea doesn't exactly sound like it's in my usual comfort zone, but I'm at least willing to try. Though I'm not sure I'll be able to stick it out for an entire month!"

"That's another good thing about not going too far and using my folks' empty place," Wayne enthused, glad to have received even partial approval for his plan. "If you can't stay the entire month or you decide it's so much not your thing that you want to leave, it's not that long a trip and there's no reservation cancellation to deal with. And Minion and I were talking about it on the way over. We think you should have the first couple of weeks all to yourselves, and if you feel like having some company after that, he can come join you, get a chance to enjoy the place, too. Your brainbots and I can keep an eye on things while the three of you are gone."

Roxanne smirked. "You mean you don't want to come, too?"

Wayne's answering smile was that of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I wouldn't mind it," he confessed, "but for once, this isn't about me, and I know it. If all three of you want me there, sure, I'll come, that place has enough room for it. But if not, that's okay. And I mean it. This is for you guys, not me."

He so plainly meant what he said, none of the others could have remained unaffected by it had they tried. Minion spoke first. "That decision isn't really mine to make," he told his two friends, "and while I'm interested in seeing some of the stuff that was mentioned, I can always wait for another time. What's important to me is that the two of you do this, to make things right again. I can't bear to watch either of you hurting yourselves or each other. I just want you to have a chance to rest and heal, and I think this idea is a good one. Like Mr. Scott said, it won't take you too far from home in case something important does come up — and even if it doesn't sound like the kind of thing you'd usually enjoy, sir, maybe something new and different will be a _good_ thing. It can't hurt to try, can it?"

Again, all eyes were on Megamind as the deciding factor, and he knew it. "What, why do you all keep looking at me?" he demanded like an irritated teenager. "I said I'll try, and I meant it! What do you want me to do, start dancing for joy or throw a tantrum?"

Roxanne patted his knee, eyes twinkling. "No, you've gotten close enough to that already. If Minion's willing to go somewhere with a fishing industry, there's no reason why you can't be willing to go somewhere out of your comfort zone, too."

Wayne suddenly looked as if he'd been clobbered with a dinosaur-killer sized asteroid. "Hey, that's right, I didn't even think about that! Will it bug you to see fishing boats and stuff like that?" he asked both the ichthyoid and his master.

Minion shrugged it off. "Not if no one expects me to do the cleaning and the cooking. Big fish do eat littler fish, and as long as I'm not the fish being eaten, it's not that big a deal to me. It actually bothers Sir more than it does me."

"Of course it does!" Megamind defended. "You _are _my best friend! How would _you_ feel if you saw even an ordinary human being cut up and cooked and eaten?"

"Not very good, sir, and I do understand why _you_ don't like seeing that sort of thing. But _I'm_ okay with it, especially since I'm the only one of my kind on the planet, and I do eat fish. Except for sushi bars. Sashimi does kinda give me the creeps."

Wayne heaved a sigh of relief. "That shouldn't be a problem, then, the area's more into Scandanavian and organic stuff — though you'll probably want to skip the fish boils."

Both master and minion paled. "Fish boils?" they echoed, appalled at the images this conjured.

"Aggh, the _savages!" _Megamind exclaimed, his face a picture of revolted horror.

Roxanne chuckled. "Relax, hon," she suggested, knowing exactly what he was imagining, and recalling the tradition from her report. "This isn't some bad B-movie about missionaries in the jungles. It's not even as bad as a New England clam bake. They're not getting boiled alive."

That only slightly mollified the ex-villain. "I don't care what they're doing, it sounds ghastly! More evil than anything _I _ever attempted! We are _not _going _near _anything so... so... _reprehoonsible!"_

"Wouldn't even think of it," she promised, skillfully keeping any trace of a smile from her face.

"I'll give you a list of all the places to avoid," was Wayne's helpful offer, and thus it was settled, and plans and preparations were begun. In three days, they were leaving for a long-overdue vacation. Roxanne was cheered by the prospect alone, so naturally, Megamind was dreading it.

_To be continued..._


	3. The Bargain

_Author's Note: Because I'm not in the habit of writing responses to reviews here on FFn (the mechanism seems a mite awkward to me, please pardon an old lady's antiquated habits!) I will repeat here what I've said on the LJ comm: I do truly appreciate any and all the remarks I'm given. An author's lifeblood is in the response of the readers, since without an audience, the work of a storyteller is empty and meaningless. There are so many other fandoms in which I've written that it was difficult to know whether or not my tales were falling on deaf ears, since little or no meaningful feedback was ever given. I just wanted to make sure I said thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Now, on to the story!_

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III

The Bargain

When the schedule had been decided upon, Wayne and Minion had assumed that three days certainly couldn't be enough time for anything more to go wrong.

Which of course meant that they were mistaken.

It had been expected that most of that time would be spent in two inevitable activities: the arduous chore of packing for a month-long trip on short notice, and the equally arduous chore of fighting over whether or not to actually go through with it. Roxanne tried to throw herself into the former as much as possible in an attempt to avoid the latter. Megamind was never really able to get into the spirit of the first, for several reasons: with the exception of the month they'd hidden out in Ludington so that he could heal from an early battle with Metro Man, every trip the blue genius had ever been on had lasted for only a few days at most, Minion had always handled the onerous part of figuring out what should be taken and getting it ready to go, and Megamind was fairly well convinced that he was going to hate this anyway, so why should he bother to prepare for a long vacation that was likely to last for only half a week at most?

By the morning of the second day, things had well and truly headed back toward bickering again, especially when not ten minutes after she'd declared that she had the entire day free, Roxanne's producer, Stewart Mitchell, called with something that absolutely _required_ her presence back at the station, for an unspecified amount of time. There had been some rather ugly words exchanged between her and Megamind after she'd announced this bit of news, which ended with the reporter heading off to work in an angry huff. The ex-villain stalked off to his thinking area of the lower Lair, which for a while led to a considerable din of banging and crashing and frightened brainbots. That was eventually followed by the scream and thunder of the hardest and most aggressive rock in his collection, turned up to a volume that caused the entire building to shudder.

It was at this point, with the water in his habitat shivering from the hitherto unprecedented sonic barrage, that Minion decided enough was enough. Years of dealing with his master in his most obstinate, truculent, pig-headed moods had taught the fish a certain finesse in how to manage the Boss. In this case, when the brainbots came flocking around him, bowging in fear, he went for the direct approach: he headed straight for the pertinent breaker boxes and cut all power to that part of the Lair. In the dead silence that followed, Minion fully expected to hear annoyed cries from his master, at least after his hearing had sufficiently recovered. He was taken aback, therefore, when he heard nothing but more silence. Now concerned, he went to investigate.

He wasn't surprised to find Megamind sitting in his favorite chair in the midst of all the blackboards and whiteboards and bits of dangling paper that were his three-dimensional ways of working out his many ideas and plans. He _was _surprised to find him simply doing _nothing, _not fuming or scheming or building up to a really phenomenal rant that would blow the roof right off the building. He was just sitting, and looking... sad. Miserable, actually.

Oh, this was definitely _not_ good.

Minion didn't consider himself to be the bravest fish in the world; he knew when it was wise to just stay away from Megamind and give whatever mood he was in a chance to pass. This time, though he thought avoidance might be the easier route to take, he just couldn't let it go.

"Sir?" he ventured, a little hesitantly, in case the sad look was a momentary lull before a supernova-sized explosion. "Sorry I had to cut the power on you, but the brainbots were starting to freak out. You know what happened the last time they did that." The decimated remains of the laundry room — and their laundry — hadn't been a pretty sight.

The answering shrug of dismissal was utterly indifferent. As if it didn't matter; as if _nothing _mattered. No, _definitely_ not good. When the Boss shut down like this, it was always a sign of big trouble.

But Minion was pretty sure he knew the cause; he had seen this mood before, on and off ever since April, though never so intensely. Summoning his courage, he decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it. "Sir, you know as well as I do that Ms Roxanne isn't interested in Mr. Mitchell, even if he _wants_ her to be interested. I'm sure she went because she has to make sure everything is cleared away at her job before she can take a long vacation. But it isn't Mr. Mitchell's place to decide whether or not she can go. The station manager already gave her his okay, and nothing's going to change that."

The sound Megamind made was completely unconvinced. "I'll believe it when I see it. Mitchell's the one who pushed for this whole big series of reports that's been keeping her busy for months, and he's the one who was pushing hardest to get her promoted, because if she got the job, she'd wind up in his department, as his _subornidate_. He had it all planned."

"You don't know that...!"

The green eyes, which had seemed lifeless and empty a moment before, suddenly burned with the fire of an exploding star. "Oh yes, I _do_ know that! I heard him talking about it, bragging to some of his friends from the station, though he didn't know I could hear him. He has a very detailed program mapped out, first to get Roxanne to spend more time with him — which has worked perfectly over the last four months, since whenever she works, he's always right there — and then to get her to notice him as something other than just her immediate superior. And that's starting to work, too. Whenever she mentions work, she always talks about him, about what a wonderful job he's doing as her producer, what a nice person he is, how helpful he's been to her, what—"

Whatever else he had been about to say was bitten off before more than that first word was spoken. For a very long minute, his eyes focused on one blue finger as it traced meaningless patterns on the arm of his chair; at length, he shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to lose her, Minion," he said in a very small, very troubled voice, the fire in his eyes now replaced with a cold fear. "She's going to wake up one day and realize she could have a good, normal life with a good, normal _human_ man, and I'll lose her."

Minion was so shocked, he couldn't find his voice for an even longer minute. He'd known that the extremely high and prolonged levels of stress had been eating away at his ward's spirit, but he hadn't understood until that moment what was being most severely eroded inside him. It was logical, he could now see; the bickering combined with the timing of when it had started — shortly after Roxanne's promotion and the beginning of a closer work relationship with the tall and handsome and friendly producer — was ripe for creating just this sort of problem. It was especially likely since Megamind's greatest vulnerabilities were in areas relating to his self-esteem in personal relationships and the fragility of his acceptance in a human world. His acceptance by Roxanne had done a great deal to heal that wounded part of him, but because so much hinged on his involvement with her, he was highly susceptible to being reinjured by any hint that he might lose her.

When Minion finally found his voice again, he chose his words carefully, aware that much of this situation was the product of both physical and emotional exhaustion. "What Mr. Mitchell _plans_ isn't necessarily what he'll _get,_ sir. Yes, Ms Roxanne has had to spend a lot of time with him because he's her boss, and he does seem to be a fairly pleasant person, but that doesn't mean she _wants _him, not that way. You know better than anyone how hard it is to make her do anything she doesn't want to do, or accept something she doesn't believe. If she says she loves you, it's because she _does,_ not because you tricked her into it. She would _never _have accepted you if she'd thought that anything she felt for you was just a product of manipulation. If that could've worked with her, she would've been Mr. Scott's girlfriend a long time ago, not yours. Once she figures out what Mr. Mitchell has been planning, she's not going to let him get away with it. Yes, she may talk about him a lot because she's been working with him a lot, but at the end of the day, this is where she calls home, with you."

"That doesn't mean she can't change her mind," the blue-in-more-ways-than-one alien pointed out, glumly.

"No, it doesn't," Minion admitted. "But I think you're letting your exhaustion make you see things that aren't really there. So I'll make a bet with you: When Ms Roxanne comes home, if she says she'll have to delay the trip or go back to the studio again tomorrow because of work, you can call off the whole thing, if you want. I'll find a way to explain it to Mr. Scott. But if she comes home and everything's still on, you'll stop griping and whining and help both of us get things packed and ready."

"I'm not whining!" the blue hero whined.

His sidekick favored him with a droll, not quite condescending look. "You've been whining for months, and believe me, if I hadn't gotten used to it a few decades ago, I'd've been in there bickering right alongside Ms Roxanne. And if I win, tomorrow, we're going shopping. There's a lot of things you'll need for this kind of a long vacation that you don't have, and I'm _not_ going out to get them without you."

Megamind considered the bet and its various ramifications. "Not at the Metrocity Mall," he bargained back. "I never could stand it, it's too big and crowded, too much overpriced junk. I've always preferred the River Street Galleria or the Bayside Plaza." Strangely enough, he didn't despise the very idea of shopping; it was one of the novelties of an honest life that he hadn't been able to enjoy when he'd been a villain and hadn't had access to his own assets. These days, he found it something of an entertaining challenge, hunting for things he liked or might want or could even use amid the many items the world of merchants had to offer. It was also a novel feeling to be welcomed by them rather than feared.

"It's a deal," Minion agreed, and the wager was made.

* * *

When Roxanne returned early that afternoon, she was positively livid. "Moron!" she snarled as she stomped through the garage portion of the Lair, headed for the elevators to the upper level, until she saw Megamind and Minion doing work on a couple of brainbots that had managed to get themselves waterlogged while helping a firefighting crew put out a kitchen fire in an upper level of one of the Metro Tower condos. The little bots were generally waterproof, but if too much liquid managed to get into the wrong part of their circuitry, they started to act tipsy, like a human who had had a few too many drinks. Fortunately, a few of their "sober" brethren had spotted the problem and hauled them back to Daddy before they could cause mischief and start to be a hindrance rather than a help. From the fire that was blazing in Roxanne's eyes and fairly steaming from her ears and nostrils as she came charging in, it looked as if she could do with a bit of fire extinguishing, herself.

"Stupid, selfish, egotistical, half-assed _moron!" _she continued to rant as she crossed the stained concrete floor, every click of her heels sounding like gunfire.

Both aliens cringed as she approached, Megamind out of dread that she might somehow be referring to him, Minion out of fear that he might lose the bet. The last time she'd come home in such a foul mood, someone at the station had accidentally ruined a week's worth of work for one of her reports, which had required a lot of overtime to restore. And overtime at this point would surely mean delaying the trip, at the very least.

Roxanne didn't notice their cringing as she was too busy kicking one of the brainbots' fetch-game wrenches across the garage floor. Somehow, she managed to get her toe under it to achieve enough loft so that it went sailing between two tall metal storage racks like a perfect field goal from the forty yard line. "Imbecile!" she started up again. "I have _never _known _anyone _so totally full of himself, and I promise you, this is _not _going to be the end of it, oh, no! By the time I'm finished, the seven levels of Hell are going to seem like an absolute _picnic!"_

Master and minion exchanged puzzled and worried glances while Roxanne sent an empty soda can flying after the wrench and started looking for something else to kick, or to tear apart with her bare hands.

Megamind worked up the nerve to swallow thickly. "Did something happen while you were out?" he asked in a jittery sing-song voice, hopeful that this wasn't at all related to him. When she heard his voice and rounded on him, still wearing that same look of pure fury, he had to inject a few tons of steel into his spine to keep from cringing yet again.

"Did something happen?" Roxanne snapped back, and her beau felt his hope start to sink like a rock. "I'll say something happened! If I never,_ ever _see or hear Stewart Mitchell's name or face again, it'll be _way _too soon! That... miserable, rotten, no-good, lousy, stinking, putrid, defective, disreputable, reprehensible, scum-sucking, slime-eating—!"

"Ah..." Megamind cleared his throat, still nervously. "Your vocabulary is truly impressive, Roxanne, but do you think you might move on to the next word in the sentence? What happened?"

The brunette found an old can filled with loose nuts and bolts to kick; when it went flying, it lost a few pieces along the way, but made its goal with a most satisfying rattle and crash. "What happened?" she repeated, kicking at the bare floor for a lack of anything better to abuse. "I'll tell you what happened! My ever-so-nice and sweet and friendly and helpful producer decided that this would be a good day to open a new chapter in our professional relationship — and I'm calling it a sexual harassment lawsuit! That... _bastard _had the _gall _to suggest that if I wanted any time off, I wouldn't get it unless I spent it with him, and if I turned down his 'wonderful' offer, he'd arrange another 'accident' with the reports and interviews I've already finished for the next two months so I'd have to stay and do them all over again under his 'loving' supervision!"

Minion hadn't seen seen so much color in his boss's face for at least a month, though this was not embarrassment or even mere anger; it was pure rage. _"WHAT?" _Megamind fairly roared, on his feet and bristling like a porcupine, though he wasn't wearing any spikes at the moment, not even retractable ones. "How _dare _he? What does he think you are, a common pro— pros— prospit— agh, I can't even _think _the word, much less _say _it! I _knew _he was a piece of slime with disgusting 'plans' for you, but this...!" His stance was one of complete combat readiness, about three seconds away from beginning the charge to find Mitchell and break his neck.

Roxanne's scowl twisted in a confused way. "Wait — are you saying you _knew _about Mitchell and his 'plans' for him and me?"

The question stayed him from immediately launching into action. "I heard him talking about it in May, at the party your work friends threw for your birthday, yes."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"Do _you _tell _me_ everything you hear other people say about me? Especially the stuff that ticks you off? When I heard him say it, you hadn't been in your new job even a month, and he was still acting nice and polite toward you, you said so yourself. Would you have given up the promotion because of something I overheard that I couldn't prove, or would you have chalked it up to me being jealous?"

This time, Roxanne was the one who swallowed, more than to moisten a dry throat. Some of her flared temper cooled. "I probably would've thought you were acting jealous because he was another new guy in my life. Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump any of this on you. But I just didn't see this coming! Until today, Mitchell's behavior was nothing like Hal or the other smarmy guys I've known — even Wayne was smarmier! Or maybe I should say Wayne _seemed _more smarmy, 'cause he isn't really, while Stewart Mitchell is... _aaaggghh!"_

She kicked the floor again, sending her shoe flying the way of the other place-kicked items. "I have _never _met anyone so full of himself, and that's saying a _lot, _since I've known both you and Wayne and neither of you ever even _heard _of the word 'modest!' But he's not getting off the hook, so don't worry about going after him yourself. After I slammed the door on Mitchell, literally and figuratively, I went straight to Jack Kincaid, the station manager, and reported it, and he's going to deal with it while I'm out of town. Turns out Kristie Newmann in the editing department filed a complaint about Mitchell after that 'accident' with my work last month. Seems she was the one who damaged the tapes because Mitchell didn't want to dirty his own hands and threatened to have her fired for bogus 'indiscretions' if she didn't cooperate. Jack had heard some other rumors about Mitchell from people at his last job, and he delayed action on Kristie's complaint until he had more evidence. If I'm lucky, Mitchell will be gone by the time we get back. At the very least, I'm going to be assigned a new producer. He may think he's hot stuff, but I'm more valuable to the station and the network. Jack will take care of it, I trust him. He's always been fair with me. If nothing else, he knows which side his bread is buttered on, and that side _isn't_ named Stewart Mitchell."

Though her explanation had helped her beau to relax from his fighting stance, he did not lose his angry scowl. "If he asks you for any suggestions for what to do with Mitchell, I have several thousand untested methods of slow torture he might want to experiment with."

That earnest offer managed to win a laugh from Roxanne. "I'll let him know, I promise. He might want to use some of your ideas, just to make the worm squirm. It still galls me that Mitchell thought I'd be stupid enough to give up a month with you just to play geisha for a lying sack of slime like him — and after he expected me to believe that _he _was completely in charge of my career! I might have to ask you to fill _me_ in on a few of those tortures, just so I can go try 'em out on him before we leave!"

Her sincere vehemence had the peculiar effect of bringing a faint smile back to Megamind's face. "You'd risk your new job just to go on vacation with me?"

She managed to return the smile, albeit a touch crookedly. "I might not put it exactly that way, but yeah, I would, especially now. I will never understand how people like Mitchell can think that I'd ever give up what I have with you for something like a promotion or to be with idiots like him! What do I have to do, have _'Back off, I'm taken'_ tattooed on my forehead?"

Now, the ex-villain managed a shaky but relieved laugh of his own. "Don't you dare, it would ruin perfection! Does this mean we can skip the whole vacation thing?"

"Why? Because we've managed to sort out _one _source of stress? I don't know about you, hon, but I'm still feeling worn to a frazzle, I want the time to recover, and more importantly, I want to spend it with _you, _someplace where we don't have to worry about being at other people's beck and call. I'd rather not be around while Jack deals with Mitchell; being somewhere that creep doesn't know about is a perfect way to keep him out of my hair without needing to worry about you blowing your hero image to smithereens, defending me. I'll make sure Jack knows to contact Minion or Wayne if he does need me for something really important."

"Are you sure?" Megamind did see her point and the wisdom of it, but he still had misgivings.

Smiling, Roxanne kicked off her other shoe so that she could close the distance between them without limping. "Positive," she assured him as she draped her arms around his neck, pleased as always that they could look eye to eye. "All this means is that we stand a better chance of making it to the Scotts' summer house without sniping each other to death or turning around long before we get there. Besides," she added, leaning forward as she dropped her tone and her volume to a level that could only be called sultry, whispering directly into his ear, "it's been _way _too long since we had the energy or the inclination to do more than just sleep in the same room together, when we managed even that. I'm _really _looking forward to... reconnecting." She kissed the ear she'd been whispering into, and smiled as it flushed a bright lavender-pink all the way to its slight point. She felt rather than saw the motion of Megamind's throat as he swallowed several times, rapidly.

"That would be nice," he very nearly stammered, pleased by the thought but a little embarrassed to be thinking it in front of Minion, especially after four months of fighting and near-estrangement. "I guess you're right, just working out one problem isn't enough. Do you think a month will be long enough?"

She shrugged. "We'll just have to wait and see." She kissed him softly, a light and lingering promise that things between them _would _improve, then lifted her head to smile at Minion. The fish had been gamely pretending to continue the repairs on the brainbots so that he wouldn't seem to be intruding on the couple's more intimate moments. "Would you mind if we wound up taking a little extra time away, Minion?"

Having been invited back into the conversation, the piscine replied quite cheerfully. "Oh, no, not at all Ms Roxanne, so long as nothing really, really important comes up! You two take as much time as you need, and if you want me to come join you after a while, I'll be there — though if you don't, that's okay, too! And it looks like I won our bet after all, sir! Tonight, you're going to help me do some of the packing, and tomorrow, we _are_ going shopping!"

Megamind groaned in surrender, but Roxanne chuckled. "Sounds like a good plan to me, I enjoy a good shopping trip." Even though she had no idea what bet Minion was talking about, she didn't really care, as the outcome was clearly positive. "And the day after that, we'll be on our way to the start of a great vacation. Right?" When Minion nodded enthusiastically but Megamind didn't so much as grunt or twitch, she poked him in the ribs. "Right?" she prompted.

"Right," the blue alien surrendered, rubbing his abused ribs for show, but finally allowing himself a genuine smile. For the first time, this whole notion of a long trip away from home didn't seem like such a bad idea, after all.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	4. The Departure

IV

The Departure

Now that at least some of the air had been cleared, the rest of that day and the next went well. Even the shopping trip turned out to be pleasant, with the exception of some snooty patrons they encountered at the Bayside shops, whose clearly "whispered" insults and anger toward the city's former villain very nearly incited Roxanne to more truly villainous behavior than her mortified boyfriend had ever attempted. They somehow managed to avoid making a scene by the grace of the open-minded shopkeeper who intervened before Roxanne had a chance to lay into the bigoted twits who had more money than brains. Given events of the previous day, she'd started eyeing one of the shop's decorative drapery rods with a wickedly pointed tip to use as a skewer to make snob kabob of the four so-called "ladies."

Afterward, the reporter realized how close she had come to damaging both her own image and that of the one she wished to protect with an inappropriate display of violence. In the weakness of an angry outburst, intensified by the exhaustion of both mind and body, she would have been painted as a vicious and dangerous shrew and Megamind as a coward who wouldn't or couldn't protect himself against twisted "truths." More than anything else, this underscored their need for time away from Metro City, to renew their strength, regain their sense of unity, and find a proper perspective on the world and their places in it.

That evening, while they were trying to decide just how they were going to manage to get themselves and everything they would need or want during such a long stay packed into a single vehicle — which common sense told them should be Roxanne's reasonably normal-looking but storage handicapped Corvette rather than the larger but terribly conspicuous when not invisible and not exactly well-suited for a long road trip Invisible Car — Wayne showed up with the keys to the house and directions to it. He saw their dilemma, and offered a feasible solution.

"I'll take it over for you tonight," he said, reminding them that though the rest of the world believed he had tragically lost his superpowers, he still had them and was quite capable of using them. "As long as I go after dark, no one will be the wiser and it'll save you the trouble. I called the day before yesterday to get all the utilities turned back on and have the caretakers come in to get the place cleaned up and ready for you. I was thinking about taking a quick hop over tonight to make sure everything was done, anyway. Though I may need to make an extra trip or two," he added with a chuckle and a wink, noting the heap of bags and satchels and such that they had been trying to find a way to fit into a car that was much too small in terms of luggage space. "As a matter of fact, I was going to ask if you'd like to skip the trip on that slow boat from Ludington to Manitowoc and have me drop off you and whatever car you're planning to take, early tomorrow morning."

Megamind coughed, covering a fit of uneasiness. "Ah...that might not be a bad idea," was his opinion. The year before he and Wayne had first met Roxanne, a mishap in his annual attempt to best Metro City's Fourth of July fireworks display had accidentally flattened the docks of the S.S. Badger Ferry in Ludington. No one had been hurt, thankfully, and the boat itself had been out of port, but there had been considerable property damage, and even now, some thirteen years later, even though he had secretly paid restitution for the damage some years ago, Megamind was reluctant to go near the place for fear that someone might peg him as the culprit in that incident, which had been written off as a freak gas line explosion.

Roxanne understood his feelings, but she wasn't quite as eager to accept the offer. "I wasn't exactly thrilled by the prospect of taking the ferry; it's not as fast as the one that goes to Milwaukee. But to just be dropped off at the front door...! That kind of spoils the whole feeling of _travel, _of going to a new and different place. I'm not sure I want to take convenience _that _far!"

"She's got a point," Wayne had to admit. "When I was a kid, I hated that long, boring trip when I could've just picked up the car and flown it there, but my mom liked the drive, and my dad liked taking the ferry. And you'll need a car there, unless you plan to just stick within walking distance of the house. That's half of what makes it such a good place to get away from it all; there're only two roads that cross the bay to get onto the upper peninsula, and there aren't any ferries that go there from the mainland. No cabs or buses or real airports, either — heck, the one in Sturgeon Bay can't handle more than small planes, and it has a standing warning about deer, turkeys, and gulls as hazards on the runways."

"Turkeys?" Megamind echoed, trying to picture it. "They raise turkeys in their airports?" That seemed too peculiar to be possible, even to him.

Both Wayne and Roxanne chuckled. "Not that kind of turkey, hon," the reporter explained, knowing that he was picturing the Thanksgiving staple. "Wild ones. We don't see them around here, but out in the country, they've made a big comeback. I hope we get to see a flock or two; I've heard they can be very smart birds, and impressive."

Her beau was dubious. "Impressive birds? Turkeys? That hardly seems likely..."

"Wait until you see 'em," Wayne suggested. "Birds can be pretty impressive, like eagles. They've got those up there, too. Okay, if you want to drive in yourself at least part of the way, Roxie, I can drop you off somewhere along highway 42, maybe north of Two Rivers. There're plenty of stretches of farmland and parks along that route where I could bring you in before dawn, and no one would notice."

Megamind's doubt-filled look contorted to one of greater distaste. "Before dawn? Don't you believe in sleeping in?"

His former rival shrugged. "I work when I have to — and if I don't want anyone to see me, that's as good a time as any, unless you want to experience the thrill of re-entry speeds without a heat shield."

Both prospective travelers gulped. "No thanks," was Roxanne's opinion. "Especially since we'll be doing this in my car. I'd rather not have the finish burned off."

"It won't be so bad," Wayne promised them. "This way, you'll get to see the sunrise over the lake, too. It's pretty, and kinda romantic, if you get my drift." His grin was perilously close to a suggestive leer.

Now, they both looked at him with perfectly matched expressions of exasperation. "Ha-ha-ha," his ex-nemesis drawled sarcastically. "Very funny. But I think we can manage that part of our lives without your help."

At least the retired hero had the decency to look properly chastised, aware that he'd crossed a line and sorry he'd done so. "Okay, okay, I get it, that's off limits, no problem. Just get everything you want to take ready to go by ten tonight, and I'll come pick it up and fly it to the house. And be ready by 4:30 tomorrow morning. The sun doesn't actually come up until 5:30 or so, but it starts getting light a lot earlier, and I don't want to chance being spotted by some farmer sending his cows out to pasture."

Megamind groaned at the very thought, never having been an early riser. Roxanne patted his arm in consolation. "We don't need to hit the road right away when we get there," she pointed out. "And I don't mind if you want to sleep while I drive. I'm the one who wanted that part of the travel experience, after all."

That was an acceptable compromise. And so, it was settled.

ooooooooooo

Pre-dawn came much earlier than anyone in the Lair was truly happy with, especially given that bedtime the night before hadn't come until after midnight, when the last preparations had been made. Knowing that Wayne would be arriving at 4:30, Minion had gotten up a half hour earlier, to rouse his sleeping friends and prepare them a light breakfast while they struggled to awaken properly and get dressed. The coffee and croissants were enough, especially since he'd brewed the coffee strong, to provide an extra jolt he knew his friends needed at this hour of the day.

"I'm going to miss both of you," the fish told them as he brought breakfast to the table with almost obscene energy, given the definitely obscene hour. "But I don't want you to worry about me being lonely or anything. I've got a lot of things I've been planning to do when I had the time, and Mr. Scott's even asked if he could go out on patrol with me, once in a while. He knows he can't be obvious about using his powers, but there's nothing really all that strange about the city's retired hero giving advice to the new hero's sidekick when he has to work alone, is there?"

"Just so long as he doesn't get any ideas about making this a regular thing," Megamind only half-grumped, mostly because he still felt like crawling back into bed. In truth, he had already started to see some merit to Wayne's offer of help with his tasks as the city's defender. Alone, the weight of the job would likely be unbearable; with Minion and the brainbots, it was tolerable, but with the aid of someone with experience who could be called upon in a pinch... The ex-villain had begun to understand why his long-time rival regretted that they had never been friends. On their own, they were each formidable in their own ways; together, they could have dealt with almost anything. Moving beyond their past conflicts to true friendship would take time, but it might just be doable, someday. Not any time soon, though.

"Are you sure you don't want to take along a couple of brainbots, just to do housekeeping?" Minion asked, glad that the Boss hadn't argued against Wayne's assistance. He'd handled the hero work on his own for a few days from time to time, but he'd been admittedly nervous about tackling it alone for weeks.

Roxanne shook her head. "Not that it's a bad idea in principle," she explained, "but you know how hard they can be to contain, and how upset they get when they feel penned in. Unless we want to have them tagging along everywhere we go, we'd be better off without them. We don't want them trashing the Scotts' house if they got bored while we were out, after all."

Megamind grunted. "Yes, I can just imagine how thrilled that would make them — and how easy it would be, not attracting attention with brainbots flitting after us like flying puppies. A good suggestion, Minion, but I think Roxanne's right about leaving them at home."

He slathered a second croissant with jam of some indefinite fruit flavor that was red. Though the stuff was quite sweet, he often wondered if the process of jam making inherently robbed it of the actual flavor of the fruit from which it was presumably made, or if the manufacturers had gotten so cheap, they used as little of the real stuff as possible. Usually, his sharp sense of smell made flavors more intense, but in many processed things, there was a strange disconnect between the scent and the taste, as if the scent was artificial, a lure to make people think they were eating what should have been producing the smell. On the whole, however, this was much too much thinking for the hour of the day.

He finished preparing his croissant, took a large bite, then waved it at Minion as he gestured before swallowing and speaking. "You know that Wayne isn't allowed in this part of the Lair — and by that I mean this entire floor. If the two of you want to hang up together, do it at his place, or downstairs. Not here."

Minion shrugged and nodded at the same time, ignoring his master's slight mangling of the colloquial phrase. "I know, sir — but I do think Mr. Scott is really making an honest effort to mend some fences with us."

The blue nose wrinkled. "Perhaps. I said I'm willing to let him try, but that doesn't mean I'm going to just let him have free access to every part of my life right off the boot. For now, the living floor is off limits to him. I don't want him up here, and I don't even want him to know it's here."

"Don't you think he already knows?" Roxanne wondered, eating her own croissant with just a touch of light butter, and like Minion ignoring his slip of the colloquialism to pass unmentioned. "Aside from the fact that you've been using this as your primary lair for years, don't you think he's already checked it out with his super vision?"

"He hasn't been here that often," Megamind pointed out. "Only since I gave up villainy. Once I decided to make a home for myself here, I always used other sites as the base of operations when I actually carried out any plans against him. It was only for the last one that I used this Lair to hold you, because the controls to operate the Death Ray satellite couldn't be moved easily. Unless he's totally rude and snoopy, invading my privacy with his powers when he visits, he doesn't know about the living quarters on this floor. From some things he's said to me since you moved in, he thinks we're living in some converted storage rooms, here and in the basement. I haven't bothered to tell him otherwise."

Roxanne was genuinely surprised. "You mean you actually don't want to show off and brag to him about all the beautiful things you've done up here?"

The blue head shook emphatically. "Not yet. Someday, maybe, but not now. I want to keep this private. He doesn't need to know about it."

He was clearly serious about the matter, and neither Roxanne nor Minion attempted to argue with him. When he was ready to change his mind he would, and until then, any efforts to make him change it would only result in pointless friction — something they definitely did not need any more of. Best friend and girlfriend exchanged glances and shrugs, decided not to pursue it, and let it go.

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the street, waiting outside Roxanne's Corvette for their "lift" to arrive. The skies were still as dark as they ever got in an urban area as big as Metro City, which certainly explained Wayne's desire to do this before the inhabitants started to really wake up and get moving. Minion and Pinky waited with them, and when the former Metro Man arrived, punctually at the first tick of the half-hour, there were goodbyes all around.

Minion's was a cheerfully offered, "Have a wonderful trip!" that came with hugs and two thermoses of coffee (one black, for Roxanne, the other double extra sweet, with chocolate and a fair amount of cream, for Megamind), as well as a small cold sack with chilled drinks and snacks, in case the day got too warm before they arrived at their destination. Pinky bowged her farewells in forlorn misery, loath to be separated from Roxanne for more than a day (though how the little bot understood that this was going to happen, neither Minion nor Megamind were quite sure).

Wayne promised to report back and let them know that the couple had made it safe and sound to the opposite shore, once the transit was completed. Then, with the passengers securely belted in and the doors and windows tightly closed, he carefully lifted up the car so as not to jostle those within, and with only the softest _whoosh_ of displaced air, whisked them off into the darkness over Lake Michigan.

ooooooooooo

Less than fifteen minutes later, Wayne gently settled the car in an empty parking area at the end of a gravel and packed dirt road quite near the western shore of the lake. There were a number of trees to both the north and south of the road, providing a convenient shelter from any potentially prying eyes. Before leaving, the ex-hero tapped on the driver's side window, which Roxanne graciously lowered.

"Hope the ride was smooth enough," he said with a smile, since he _had _been extra careful to avoid any uncomfortable jostling that might upset those within.

"It was fine," Roxanne assured him, "though it did feel a little bit like riding the shuttle up into orbit."

"Ah, yeah, I suppose it would, since I was probably doing around 500 and this car isn't exactly built for that. But I did try to keep from speeding up and slowing down too fast, so I hope it wasn't too unsettling."

Megamind made a rather sour face, simply to be difficult at this ungodly hour of the day. "If there's ever a next time, warn us about bringing those little bags they use on jets. I'm glad we didn't bother with much of a breakfast!"

Wayne was genuinely contrite. "Sorry, Megs, I promise I'll take it easier next time — if there is one. Okay, then, I've got all your luggage squared away at the house, and you've got the keys and a map for getting there. You're in Two Creeks County Park here, so all you need to do is drive up this road back maybe half a mile to highway 42—" He pointed in the proper direction. "—hang a right, and just keep following the signs for 42 until you get to Beach Road in Sister Bay. You shouldn't have any trouble finding the house from there. And if you do decide you want to kick back here and sleep a little longer before heading up, you might want to follow 57 into Sister Bay instead. 42 goes through all the little towns along the Green Bay side, and a few of 'em can be kind of annoying to drive through if there're a lot of pedestrians and bikes on the road. This _is _their high season, after all."

"Thanks for the tip," Roxanne said with a smile. "You'll help Minion take care of the city while we're gone, right?"

"Only as much as he wants me to help," the musician promised, glancing at the other alien to see his reaction. "There's only so much I can do without blowing my cover and causing a lot of problems, so this'll be Minion's call, not mine."

That seemed to please Megamind. "Good, he has _much _more sense than you do! Just make sure you don't use this as an excuse to go snooping around the Lair!"

"Retired superhero's honor," Wayne pledged, complete with the traditional Boy Scout salute. "I know a guy's gotta keep some things secret, especially when that guy has a hero's job. And it'd be a crappy way to start a friendship, prying into your business while you're gone. I'm on the level about this, Megs. I really do want us to be friends someday, and I know it won't ever happen if I do things to show I can't be trusted."

In the meager light provided by the car's auxiliary dash lights and a distant street lamp, the sincerity on the big lug's face was clear to see. Even his former arch-nemesis couldn't find it in him to deny it, although he was inclined to attribute that lapse to an early morning lack of energy. "Just see that you don't," he replied without any real bite to his words.

His acceptance brought a huge smile to Wayne's face. "I won't. Well, then, I'd better be heading back before it gets too light." A rapidly growing purple-gray smear on the eastern horizon was already promising the coming day. "Have a great time, you two. And if there's anything you need or anything wrong with the house, just give a call and let me know." With another smile and a jaunty wave, he was off, gone quicker than the eye could follow.

After the last eddies of the dust stirred up in his wake had settled, Roxanne left the window open for a minute to smell the sweet pre-dawn air of the countryside before closing it to discourage any mosquitoes that might think to come after them for a quick bite to eat. She turned to Megamind, who was fiddling with the car's GPS. "Well, should we hit the road or wait to watch the sunrise and catch a nap?" she asked.

"If Wayne didn't make a mistake and put us down in the wrong place, it's about an hour and a half's drive to his parents' house," the alien reported, adding with a mischievous smirk, "_if _you want to stick to the speed limits, of course."

Roxanne playfully swatted his arm. "Flooring the accelerator just to get somewhere fast isn't exactly my idea of getting the most out of the trip," she reminded him. "Besides, Wisconsin's been pretty nice to us. I don't want to spoil that by collecting speeding tickets in every small town along the shore on our first day here."

The black eyebrows twitched expressively. "They'll never know if we turn on the invisibility mode..."

She nixed the idea immediately, deflecting his hand even as he reached for the _stealth mode _button. "Uh-uh, no way, I asked you to put that in only so I could avoid paparazzi trying to follow me home, and to get away from the occasional would-be kidnapper. I don't want this trip to be about hiding behind invisibility screens and holographic disguises. Do you?"

Megamind pondered the question, then shook his head. "No, not really. We're doing this to get rid of stress, and I can tell you from experience, pretending to be something you're not is some of the worst stress ever. If I never need to use the holowatch again — barring the occasional fun surprise and legitimate hero work disguises, of course — I wouldn't miss it. Much. So, if you want to drive at _legal _speeds to appreciate the scenery, we should probably catch a nap first. I'm still half-asleep, and driving before the sun's up won't let you see much of the countryside, either."

"Good thought. Did Minion remember to — oh, yeah, right behind your seat," she answered her own question, reaching back to bring forward a small travel pillow. Being August, the weather was quite warm, so no covers would be needed. "Do you need one?" she asked, seeing another pillow tucked behind the seats.

The ex-villain shook his head. "I'm good. Though we might want to turn on the invisibility mode until we leave, just in case there's some local law about not sleeping in parks."

Roxanne agreed, and thumbed the button to activate the invisibility mode, which remained active even after she shut off the car's auxiliary power.

In the slowly fading darkness that enveloped them, little could be clearly heard or seen of the world outside. For a minute or two, their own breathing seemed strangely loud, but grew less so as their ears adjusted to the complete stillness. After a while, the reporter thought that Megamind had fallen asleep; she closed her eyes and was preparing to relax into sleep herself when he spoke.

"Roxanne," came his voice out of the pre-dawn gloom, softly, "I don't want to start another pointless fight, and I don't want you to think that I'm trying to pin any sort of blame on you, but something's been gnawing at the back of my mind ever since yesterday afternoon — well, the day before yesterday afternoon, now."

She was fairly certain she knew where this was going. "Does this have to do with me and Stewart Mitchell? Because if it does, I promise I am _not _interested in him in any way, and I never was, not even as my producer. I can name several others I would rather have had assigned to me, all of them a _lot _better than him. Yes, I made the best of working with him and he seemed to be doing a pretty decent job, but if I'd been given a choice to begin with, he wouldn't have even made the first cut."

She could hear the small smile in his voice. "That's nice to know, but that wasn't what I was thinking. I was wondering: do you have idea why he decided that _now_ would be a good time to try to... get you... involved with him? Romantically, that is."

Roxanne snorted indelicately. "There was never anything romantic about what he had in mind, and you knew it before I did! But to answer your question, I have some ideas, yes, but I don't know for sure."

With the steady brightening of the eastern sky, she could see as well as hear it when he turned in his seat to face her. "What ideas?"

Now, she was quiet for a bit, thinking. She turned to face him as well, and saw the bright green eyes watching her curiously, hungry for some kind of answer that might help make sense of what seemed so senseless. At length, she sighed. "Well, I suppose it could have just been a coincidence, or that Mitchell thought if he presented me with his 'suggestion' for a vacation with him, I might find it irresistible, because he had something in mind that would top whatever we had planned. Obviously, he was wrong. But..."

When she fell silent again, reflecting on the matter, Megamind couldn't let it rest for long. "But...?"

Once more, she sighed, deeply. "I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "Could I think about this a little longer? I'm not trying to put you off or avoid giving you a straight answer. I just want to be sure that I don't say the wrong thing by accident just because I'm tired. I don't want to fight anymore, either, especially not over Mitchell. I don't want to waste another second of my life over a piece of scum like him. I'll have an answer for you by tonight, I promise. Though it may not be accurate; I don't know for sure _what_ that sleazoid was thinking, or why."

Megamind said nothing for several moments as he digested this; then he nodded. "Okay. You're right, it's hard to think clearly about things like this when you're tired. I don't blame you for what happened, Roxanne, really. But I don't like feeling so jealous and terrified every time a new man comes into your life. I know that you aren't looking for someone to replace me, I'm reasonably sure that you wouldn't even consider it—"

Roxanne reached out to touch his cheek, her caress gentle. "You can be _absolutely_ sure of it, Mykaal. I love _you, _and there isn't another person in the universe who could possibly replace you. And that's not because you're the last of your kind. You're _one _of a kind, utterly unique, and I love it."

He smiled, both a bit shakily and a bit smugly, but accepted her assurance, gratefully. "I just want to understand why this happened _now,_ if it's possible, if I can. I don't want this to keep happening, especially since in your line of work, people come and go so often. You _will_ work with other men, and some will probably become your friends. I don't want to automatically hate them because I'm afraid of them."

She realized that this was a huge admission for the ex-villain to make, that he was afraid of something he would never be able to avoid: his own deep-seated feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that sometimes would threaten to overpower him simply because he had so very much to lose. Mindful of this, Roxanne vowed that she would try even harder to help him find that understanding. "We'll work this out together, sweetie. I want to understand it as much as you do, because I hate being even indirectly involved in anything that hurts you. You've already been hurt enough for a dozen lifetimes."

He didn't argue with her, and she was grateful. When he reached across the gearshift to take her hand and leaned over to kiss her, gently, she smiled. The sports car wasn't the best place for cuddling, but for now, this simple contact was enough. He smiled as he sat back again and, after watching the lovely spectacle of the rising sun, they closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	5. The Road Trip

_Author's Note: Although the place names for towns and parks and major roads in this story are real, people and any specific business mentions are not, although many are and will be based to varying degrees on my own experiences in this part of Wisconsin. They do say write from experience, and vacations can sometimes provide a wealth of anecdotal information to work with. Enjoy! (And thanks for reviewing!)_

* * *

V

The Road Trip

When the sensation of being jostled about wakened Megamind, his initial expectation was that Roxanne was shaking him, so that they could get on their way. As he fought his way up from the muddy depths of drowsiness, his second thought was that someone had managed to discover them parked at the end of the unpaved road by running into a car they didn't know was there. As he finally blinked his eyes and came to the surface of consciousness, however, he could feel the car moving, not in the way it would if it had been hit, but as it would when driving, and making an abrupt change of course. He straightened in his seat, looking about in an attempt to make sense of unfamiliar surroundings. What lay beyond the windows — open countryside, green, rolling hills covered by wide acres of farms and pastureland, dotted with wooded areas, and broken by occasional houses, barns, and other rural buildings — was definitely unfamiliar, though Roxanne behind the wheel was not. She saw his sudden change of position and smiled apologetically.

"'Morning, hon," she greeted, blowing him a small kiss. "Sorry if that little maneuver woke you, I was just about to make a wrong turn and I guess I didn't handle the correction too smoothly, caught a bit of the gravel shoulder. How're you feeling? Rested?"

"Better," he said around a prodigious yawn. "Though I could probably use another few days of sleep." He stretched his back and his neck, making a face over the necessity of a seatbelt. Roxanne always insisted upon it when they were in her car, and though he conceded to her wishes, he sometimes disliked the way the dratted thing chafed at his long neck. "Where are we?"

She checked the dashboard clock, which showed the time as 9:00 a.m. "North of Algoma, about forty minutes from where Wayne dropped us off. I gave you a nudge when I was ready to get going, but you didn't seem to like the idea, so I let you sleep. Hope you don't mind."

"Did I miss anything worth waking up for?"

"From your point of view? Probably not. We've been through a few small towns and a lot of farms. Other than that... There _was_ the nuclear power plant, but I think it's just as well that you missed it. I don't think they'd be up to giving you a tour."

"I doubt it," he agreed rather affably. "I suspect the South Haven plant sent mug shots of me to all the other nuclear sites after I tried breaking in when I was nineteen."

"What on earth were you trying to do?" Roxanne wondered, intrigued. "Nuke Metro City?"

But the blue genius was remarkably blasé about the matter. "Nah, that'd be like fouling your own nest. I was trying to prove a point with Wayne, that I could beat just about any security system around. I almost did, too, but I made a mistake and gave him too much of a hint about what I was planning. I didn't do more than actually get through the front door of the plant before he figured it out and hauled me back to prison. I did prove my point, though, so I chalked that up as one of my almost-wins."

Roxanne shook her head, chuckling. "You guys were just a two-man frat house war, weren't you? Always trying to one-up each other."

Megamind smiled. "I guess so, a lot of the time. Michigan was lucky to have us, when you think about it."

She laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "I thought you've always insisted your battles weren't for the tourists!"

"Oh, they weren't, but you can't deny that we added a lot of spice to what would've otherwise been a pretty dull town."

Roxanne gave a sound between a chuckle and a snort, amused by his playful preening. It was so much better than the bickering and sniping, and let her finally begin to relax into the spirit of a vacation. "The pair of you certainly kept things interesting," she agreed, as much head-swelling as she was willing to encourage. "It shouldn't be too much longer before we reach the turn heading up into the peninsula — oh, hey, would you look at that?"

Megamind, who had been searching behind the seats for his thermos of coffee, glanced up. "Look at what? Where?"

She pointed out her side of the car. "I think it's a wind farm," she said, gesturing toward the tall shapes of wind turbine towers dotting the hills that stretched out to the west and ran parallel to the highway. "They've been talking about building one outside Metro City, and I've seen pictures, but I've never actually seen so many of them before."

The ex-villain had to lean forward to try to get a decent glimpse of the massive modern day windmills, and even then had some trouble because of the angle of the windshield and his unusually high cranium. When he made a small sound of frustration, Roxanne obliged by pulling over onto the shoulder and stopping. "Won't hurt to take a few minutes to get out and have a good look," she said as she shut off the car and unbuckled her seatbelt. "That's part of being on vacation, taking the time to stop and smell the roses — or gawk at cool stuff when you see it."

Having no personal experience in the matter, Megamind was quite willing to defer to her advice. Getting out also let them stretch their legs a bit, a relief after several hours of being confined to even a comfortable car. It also made finding the thermos easier. While he opened it to savor some of the still hot contents, Roxanne fished out her digital camera from behind her seat.

"They aren't close," her beau noted, having moved to her side of the car to study the many towers and the land in between while she was bringing out her equipment. "Several miles away, I think, which would make them quite large, to be so obvious at this distance. Why would they put something like this here? I can't imagine that the farms have a need for so much power."

"Most of it's probably going to a larger city in the area, like Green Bay," Roxanne speculated as she switched the lens for a more powerful telephoto that would give them a closer view of the turbines. "Remember what I said about the region being very environmentally aware? A wind farm this size could provide energy for a pretty large area with a low population density, without any pollution. And I imagine that once they get used to it, the cows and farm animals and wildlife aren't really bothered by it."

She handed him the camera so he could have a closer look for himself. She sighed as he peered through the viewfinder and refocused the lens. "Too bad I packed the binoculars with the stuff Wayne brought over last night. They would've been a little less clumsy to use for something like this."

"Not a problem," Megamind assured her. "This is good enough." After using the lens' augmentation to study the towers and the steadily turning blades atop them, he sniffed softly. "I wonder if this is one of the projects the mayor and the governor have in store for me?"

Roxanne chuckled as she leaned back against the car and enjoyed the warm and soft morning breeze flowing up the gentle slope of the valley to the west. It was heavy with scents of the growing crops of corn and beans and hay, ripening fruit in orchards, the stands of tall oaks and other trees, as well as the sharper, more pungent odors of the animals out in the pastures. "They probably do," she speculated, noticing that a car was heading their way from the north, but not caring, as they were well clear of it on the opposite shoulder. "And I'll bet that they expect you to find a way to do it better, faster, and cheaper."

Megamind's answering snort was eloquent. "No bet; that's what they always expect. I suppose I could find a way to make them more efficient, but really, they're already works of art, in their own ways. Simple, streamlined, elegant — you can't improve on that without making them look ridiculous, or creating an even greater hazard for wildlife."

She smiled. "Remember to say it just like that when they ask you," she suggested, kissing his cheek.

He lowered the camera and was about to return her kiss more fully when the approaching car zipped by, then nearly spun out as the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes. The car — actually a small SUV with a family inside — stopped, remained still for only a split second, then jolted into reverse and came squealing back almost as quickly as it had passed before stopping again, directly in front of them. Several faces were plastered to the driver's side windows, the driver himself and two kids in the back. The mom was also leaning in their direction, mouth open and gawking like the others.

Hero and reporter exchanged droll looks, then looked back at the quartet staring at them, faces now less distorted as their windows rolled down.

Megamind managed a charmingly bright smile, quite well aware that he was the object of their open-mouthed attention. "Yes? Something we can do for you? Are you lost and need directions?"

"Uh..." the dad said with an outstanding lack of articulation. "Ah... erm..."

"We know you!" one of the kids in the back seat, a boy of about seven, squealed. "You're that superhero guy from Michigan, right?"

The other kid, a girl of perhaps twelve, elbowed her brother. "Hey, don't be rude, stupid! The guy's got a name! Megamind, right?"

Said hero nodded as he leaned back against the hood of the Corvette and struck a nonchalant pose. "Do you need help, or did you stop simply to marvel at my incredibly awesome handsomeness?"

Roxanne couldn't quite smother the laugh that bubbled up at his audacious lack of humility. The parents were still trying to find their voices, but the kids had no problem whatsoever. "Oh, man, this is so totally cool!" the boy exclaimed. "Can we have your autograph or take your picture or something? The guys back home will never believe this!"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah!" the girl squealed, scrambling around for something behind her, between the seats. "We've gotta get a picture! Is that okay? We've got our own camera..."

The couple again exchanged glances; Roxanne shrugged, seeing no harm in it, and Megamind capitulated. "Fine," he said, "but make it quick. We don't want to interfere with traffic." Fortunately, it was still fairly early on a weekday morning and well out of any town, so there were no cars or trucks in sight at the moment, though that certainly couldn't last for long.

Shrieking with delight, the children scrambled out. "Can you take the picture?" the boy asked Roxanne, even though his sister had the camera.

"No, stupid!" the girl insisted, "stupid" being her apparent term of endearment for her brother. "She's Roxanne Ritchi, his girlfriend! We've gotta have her in the picture, too!"

"Why?" the boy wanted to know. "You're the one who's all mushy-faced over him — why do you want his girlfriend in the picture?"

The girl blushed as thoroughly as the blue alien, though the color it produced on their cheeks was quite different. Roxanne couldn't help but giggle. "Ah, one of your many female admirers, Mr. Handsome Superhero," she whispered to him as she tried to hide her laughter so as not to further discomfit him.

"Mom! Dad!" the girl called, employing her own method of diversion to keep from dying of embarrassment. "Come on, one of you can do this! Hurry up, there's another car coming!"

The father almost fell out of the SUV as his door opened, but he managed a creditable save to keep from falling on his face. Fortunately, the approaching car turned at a crossroad before reaching them, but he took the camera from his daughter and snapped off a few shots quickly. Roxanne insisted that she take one of the entire family with her famous beau.

After the brief moment of embarrassment, Megamind had quickly recovered his poise, and he signaled for the reporter to take one more shot before the group started to head back to their vehicle. Smiling with charming innocence, he kissed his young admirer's cheek just as Roxanne snapped the picture, capturing the look of blissful shock on the girl's face. Roxanne then returned the camera, and her brother almost had to drag the suddenly nerveless girl back into the car. As the family waved goodbye and continued on, they could hear her squeal, "My friends are gonna be _soooo _jealous...!"

'But he wasn't even wearin' any spikes...!" came the boy's fading lament.

"That was sweet of you," Roxanne said as they watched the SUV drive off. "She'll be bragging about this until she gets a crush on the next popular guy."

The ex-villain sighed and smiled at the same time. "You don't suppose this is going to keep happening until we go home, do you? I don't really want to get a reputation for kissing babies, or little girls. People might get the wrong idea."

She grinned and shrugged, kissing him in consolation before they climbed back into the car. "It could happen again, but I doubt it'll be too often. Did you see the back of their van? Tourists, from Iowa. Wayne said something about that when he came over to pick up our luggage last night. There may be others like those, but not as many as you're afraid of, sweetie. Most of the people who go to the upper peninsula are looking for a more quiet kind of place, to relax, to unwind. Families that want exciting around here usually head to Wisconsin Dells, or the Chicago area. And years back, Door County was one of the places where mobsters from Chicago like Al Capone went to cool off; it was considered neutral ground. It still has something of that atmosphere, a place where people who get noticed every day in their regular lives go to feel more normal, because the locals and a lot of the visitors know how to be friendly without being intrusive. I think that's a big part of why Wayne suggested it in the first place.

"Besides," she added as she climbed in and closed the door a few seconds after Megamind had done the same, "look at the bright side."

A small frown creased his brow. "There's a bright side to this?"

The brunette nodded, brushing aside the lock of hair that fell across her eyes with the motion. "Oh, yes, definitely. Those people aren't from Metro City, but they _liked _you. They weren't scared of you, not the kids or their parents. They thought you were a very cool celebrity, and they accepted you without ever once saying the word _alien. _I think that's a very big bright side, don't you?"

As the realization of that truth sank in, Megamind found himself at a loss for words. It certainly _was _a bright side, and one very much worth thinking about.

* * *

Wayne had been quite right when he'd said that only two roads crossed over the bay — Sturgeon Bay, after which the surrounding small city had been named — and onto the upper peninsula itself. The city itself was small, having less than ten thousand actual residents, and once beyond it, all the towns and tiny hamlets were much, much smaller. The population of visitors could be quite high during the warmest summer months, and it was because of this particular warning and the steadily growing heat of the day that Roxanne decided to take the alternate route Wayne had suggested rather than deal with any kind of crowd. She enjoyed driving on the open country roads, something made all the more enjoyable by the fact that Megamind never complained about wanting to be the one behind the wheel. It was so unlike every other guy she had ever dated, it reminded her once more of all the many reasons, large and small, that she loved him.

They had gone only a mile or two up the road, which was flanked on both sides by broad farm fields and woodlands, when the ex-villain, watching the scenery rolling by, suddenly asked, "Where are the turkeys?"

Roxanne had been trying to decide on which playlist to use to provide a little traveling music, and was thus startled by the question. "Huh? What did you say?"

"I said, where are the turkeys? After all the talk I've been hearing about them, I expected us to be run over by a herd of them every fifty feet!"

"It's a flock, not a herd, and they aren't quite that common, even here."

"Then when do we get to see them?"

"Whenever they decide to come out of whatever woods they're roosting in. They spend most of the day foraging for food, so I suppose that sooner or later, we'll catch sight of a flock. You just have to be patient when it comes to nature, sweetie. Wild things live on their own schedules, not ours."

Megamind grumped. "Well, that's just disappointing. Wild fangirls on the highways, but no wild turkeys."

"We have a whole month," she reminded him in her best tones of appeasement.

He harrumphed, clearly unappeased. "Impressive birds, my giant blue head," he said, mimicking his former nemesis. "Impressive _anythings _don't hide out where no one can see them! They have a sense of presentation!"

Roxanne sort of had to admit that that was true, as strutting toms presenting themselves for the consideration of hens were certainly turkeys at their most impressive. On the other hand, she didn't think it would be wise to encourage this grouchy train of thought too much. "Well, if we don't see any before it's time to go home, I'll give Wayne a call and have him track down a couple of flocks for us. He's the one who practically promised you'd see 'em, after all." That appeared to reasonably mollify her ex-kidnapper, and they drove on without any new complaints about the inconvenient habits of wild turkeys.

Some miles farther up the road, however, Megamind found something new to puzzle over. "Cavepoint?" he said, making the word sound utterly distasteful. "What in the world is a cavepoint?"

Roxanne, who had been humming along with a song in the playlist she'd selected, had no idea what he was talking about. "Come again?" she prompted rather than confess that she hadn't been paying attention.

"That was the third sign I've seen in the last five miles for something called a 'cavepoint.' Isn't that an _oooxiemoron? _Caves are holes and points are sharp, so how can a cave have a point? Are they talking about stalactites and stalagmites, or is it a pointed something with a big hole in it?"

"I have no idea, sweetie. Are you sure you read the signs right?"

He lifted his chin indignantly. "Absolutely! Look, see? There's another one!" He pointed to a sign, which read _CAVE POINT COUNTY PARK, _with an arrow pointing to the right.

Roxanne saw the error in the close spacing of the words. "I think it's two words, hon, not one. Sounds like it's just the name of a park."

"But why would anyone name a park something that makes no sense?"

"Maybe it does to the people who named it. We can always ask some—whoops!"

"Somewhoops?" her beau echoed, giving her a look of disbelief. "And people keep saying _I _can't pronounce simple words...!"

"No, no, the 'whoops' was for something else. I was going to fill up the tank last night and I forgot. The low fuel light just came on, and I think we still have more than another twenty miles to go before we get to Wayne's place."

Fortunately, a few moments later, they came around a curve in the wooded stretch of road along which they'd been traveling, the speed limit dropped, and a number of houses and other small buildings came into view. Unfortunately, none of them appeared to be a gas station. "I don't suppose that the GPS is equipped to show gas stations outside our part of Michigan?" she wondered.

Megamind shook his head. "You didn't ask for it, and I hadn't thought we'd be taking many road trips outside the Metrocity area."

She slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. "Then I think we should stop and ask the locals before we wind up in the middle of nowhere, out of gas. At least here, we know there are people around to ask."

They came to a stop just outside a small park, beyond which they could see the shore of Lake Michigan, more or less to the south. Glancing at the low buildings nearby, none of which appeared taller than two stories, Roxanne spotted one across the street with a fluttering _OPEN_ flag out front, and a sign declaring _VISITOR'S INFORMATION_ beside the open door. "That looks like a good place to start," she decided as she unbuckled herself and opened her door.

When she climbed out, she noticed that Megamind hadn't followed suit. "Are you planning to stay here and wait?" she asked. "I don't think anyone inside there will bite, not if they're the local information bureau."

Megamind was still reluctant. "I'm not sure that I'm quite ready to handle another group of... er... potential admirers."

Roxanne's smile was wry. "I never thought I'd see the day when the great Megamind would turn shy about facing his public. I understand, this is new territory and we're not quite sure how people will react, but if you don't want to spend the whole trip under a disguise, you have to try sometime." She glanced over her shoulder at the building, which appeared to be nothing more than some kind of art or craft shop. There were no other cars parked on the street outside it. "I think it should be safe," she reported. "Given the time, the place probably just opened, and it doesn't look like there are any other customers yet."

Still, he continued to hesitate, and she shook her head. "It's now or never, Mykaal. Don't let the threat of running into another gushing fangirl scare you off. I'll be right there with you to fend 'em off, if any are brazen enough to show their faces."

She said it with such grim determination, he couldn't help but smile. "Is that a _dare, _Ms Ritchi?" he challenged.

"More like a promise," she assured him, "but if you want to take it that way, I'm game. I dare you to walk into that shop first and ask someone where we can find the nearest gas station. You up for it, Mr. Superego?"

He returned with a positively wicked grin as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Oh, I'm up for anything you can throw at me, Ms Nosy Reporter! You will rue the day you dared to challenge me!"

With that, he wasted not a moment exiting the car to stride across the street, fortunately well ahead of a pickup truck that was about to pass by at a somewhat higher speed than the local limit. Roxanne followed quickly, not because she doubted him, but because she wanted to see whatever happened next. She'd guessed, rightly so, that if she made it a dare, his uneasiness would flee and he'd slip right back into his more typical extravagant public demeanor. Now she wanted to be sure she didn't miss out.

She had also guessed correctly that there were no other customers in the shop. It was a small and rather crowded place, displaying many shelves filled with wares of different handcrafted items, ranging from small and rather trite to large and quite lovely. To one side of the narrow main room was a small counter with a cash register and a rack full of various brochures, pamphlets, flyers, magazines, and even maps for local businesses, as well as other attractions and points of interest. What the place did not have, however, was some sort of proprietor or clerk in evidence.

That curious lack took a fair amount of the wind out of the blue hero's sails. "Well, this just isn't right!" he declared as he heard Roxanne come up behind him. "What kind of appalling security is this? Anyone could just come in and walk off with half the place!"

His girlfriend tried not to smile too broadly. "This isn't Metro City, hon; it isn't even Green Bay. That's the way of it sometimes in small towns. People trust one another, they even trust most of their guests. I'm sure if some crook comes in and wants to rob the place blind, you'll stop him."

He drew himself up into a proper hero's stance. "Of course!" He then sagged a bit. "But... isn't this just a little strange? I mean, really, we could empty the cash register — or what if we wanted to buy something? Do they work on the honor system? I'd say that's going a bit too far..."

"I agree. Maybe the owner had to go answer the phone or use the restroom. Let's just wait a couple of minutes and see what happens."

As that seemed to be the best available option, Megamind went along with it. While Roxanne glanced at a few shelves near the front of the small room, showing an array of beautifully carved wood beside a collection of colorful and intricate hand-quilted items, he looked around the clerk's station to see if perhaps there was any indication of mayhem.

There was not, though what did catch his eye was a bowl near the register, full of something labeled _Amish made cashew brittle, _with an invitation for it to be sampled. He knew about peanut brittle from life in prison, as it was one of the things that could be purchased at the commissary. That stuff had been sweet, if not precisely delicious, and the scent of this was also sweet, reminding his stomach that breakfast, such as it was, had been almost six hours ago. Figuring that there was nothing better to do while they waited for the proprietor, he plucked a piece from the bowl and popped it into his mouth.

His eyes popped wide the moment it hit his tongue. This was nothing like the stuff he remembered from prison. This was actually... good. No, not merely good. It was sweet, yes, but sweet like actual sugar, not some cheap liquid fructose goo concentrate, and it was also... what _was_ that flavor? Butter? Certainly not the stuff that the cheap prison candy used; that had always had a vague aftertaste of used motor oil to it, which gave the candy the overall sensation of having been scorched and burned, not merely cooked, imbedded with incongruously rubbery and tasteless yet bitter little rocks that were supposedly peanuts. He'd eaten it when offered by his uncles because he would admittedly eat almost anything sweet, but this...! It had subtle textures beyond merely "brittle," smooth and crackly in the candy and genuinely crunchy in the nuts that actually _tasted _like they were supposed to taste, flavors of things that were clearly identifiable as real foods, not merely cheap over-processed or chemically concocted substitutes.

This wasn't candy; this was..._ ambrosia._

And needless to say, more of it found its way into the delighted alien's mouth not even three seconds later.

Of course, it was at that particular moment, with his mouth unquestionably full, that Roxanne spoke up behind him, and sounds of movement could be heard approaching from the rooms beyond the counter before him.

"Hey, hon, is Minion still interested in patchwork quilting?" his girlfriend asked as he frantically tried to chew and swallow what he'd stuffed into his mouth — a tricky proposition, as it was a mite too full and the now-sticky candy had become something of a solid mass glued to his teeth. "They've got some lovely little decorative pieces here, and I was thinking it might be a nice sort of small thank-you gift, with him filling in for you for a few weeks."

"Yurph," was all Megamind managed to get out through his struggle to hide the evidence of his own unseemly fit of greed.

"What was that?" Roxanne asked distractedly, not having noted his embarrassed distress. It didn't help that the sounds from the other room were rapidly getting closer.

"Uh ehg yurph, ee igh," came the valiant attempt at an intelligible reply. Sadly, it lost on all fronts.

What it succeeded in doing, however, was to get Roxanne's attention. "Are you okay, sweetie?" she inquired, abandoning whatever she'd been looking at to see what was wrong.

"Yurph, ught ein!" Oh, great, now he could see the shadows of someone approaching beyond the counter even as he felt Roxanne come up behind him. His desperate attempts finally met with some degree of success, and he managed to swallow enough to regain some control of his voice. "Whah do oo asthk?"

His beloved wasn't a crack reporter for nothing; it didn't take more than a moment for her to assess the situation and determine what had been going on. She smirked. "I ask because you sound like you've been choking to death. 'Sample' doesn't mean 'eat half the bowl in one shot,'" she pointed out at her very drollest. "If you're that hungry, we can stop somewhere for a real breakfast, you know."

With one last monumental effort and a huge swallow, the not so bright at the moment genius managed to finally clear his mouth. "I got carried away," he admitted, chagrined. "But who is this Amish, and how did he find the recipe for the food of the gods?"

Curious to know what had prompted such a response, Roxanne took a bit of the stuff from the now only half-full bowl and tried it. "That's good," she agreed. "But it isn't exactly food of the gods, it's just what you get when you use real food for ingredients and don't use machines to do the cooking. Minion could probably make something like this, if he wanted to encourage your sugar habit. And Amish isn't a person, it's a group of people who do things the old fashioned ways as a part of their religious beliefs."

"And most places these days, it's old fashioned to use fresh ingredients of good quality real foods instead of stale, inferior substitutes," the person who had been approaching said as she entered the room. She was a middle-aged woman of average height, brown haired, with a round, pleasant face. "Good morning!" she greeted with a smile. "I take it you're both from out of town?"

There was no sarcasm in her voice, even though it had to be patently obvious that Megamind was no local. Remembering that he was still under a dare, he spoke first. "Ah, yes, yes we are — and I'm sorry, I think I ate a little more of your samples than I should have."

The woman waved it off, still smiling. "You aren't the first," she assured him. "We sell more of that stuff than almost anything else in the shop. People do seem to get addicted to it. If that's what you're here for, I was just about to bring in some fresh stock, the shipment from my Amish friends just arrived."

Her easy manner helped calm his jitters over his impulsive faux pas. "Oh, no — well, I mean yes, I think I would be interested in that, but that's not why we're here. We're on our way to a friend's summer house in... where is it again, Roxanne?"

"Sister Bay," she provided, her attention now drawn back to the things she'd been perusing.

"That's it, Sister Bay. We were on our way there, but it seems our car is running low on fuel, and we don't know where the nearest gas station might be."

The clerk nodded her understanding. "That'd be about six or seven miles farther up the road, on highway 57 in Bailey's Harbor. It's on the right, and trust me, you can't miss it. Are you planning to be here for a while, or did you come just for the opening of the festival?"

"Festival?"

"The Peninsula Music Festival," she explained, plucking a specific advertising brochure from the rack of informative items and handing it to him. "It happens every August for the first three weeks, concerts by the local orchestra and a number of noted guests. It's a sort of end of the season tradition, since after that, most of the summer residents and guests start packing up and heading back home. If you're not here for that, then you're just in visiting?"

Somehow, the woman managed to be inquisitive without seeming the least bit prying, as one might be when talking to a friend they haven't seen in a while. "Yes, just visiting," Megamind found himself answering, surprised at how easily the woman had drawn him into a conversation without making him feel at all suspicious. "A break from work."

The clerk was completely understanding. "Everyone needs that once in a while, even superheroes," she said with a wink and a twinkle in her dark eyes.

A faint hint of lavender crept across the alien's blue cheeks. "Oh, so you know who we are — who I am," he corrected, well aware that between his oversized bald head and his complexion, he was by far and away the more noticeable and unmistakable.

The woman's chuckle was kind. "Well, I don't think there's much anyone who lives near Lake Michigan who _doesn't_ know who you are one way or another, Mr. Megamind. Even up here, we do have television and newspapers, though a lot of people don't pay them as much mind as they might, were they at home. But I'm a local, live here all year 'round, so I've heard things from time to time. Lately, it's been mostly good things about you, so if you're worried about people having a hard time accepting you, don't. There might be some vacationers who have bad attitudes, but not many, and not the real residents. We've all heard about how you're coming up with some good ways to help clean up the lake and keep it that way, and believe me, we're all for it."

"Told you so," Roxanne's voice came from across the small room.

Megamind spared a moment to stick out his tongue at her, which made the clerk laugh as she came out from behind the counter and started collecting a number of things from the literature rack. "We provide information for visitors here in Jacksonport," she explained, "though with the Door being such a comparatively small region, nothing's all that far from anywhere else, so what we have covers pretty much everything. These will give you some good sources of general information about what's where and what's going on and all the things there are to do while you're here. Will you be staying the whole week?"

"The whole month, actually," the alien once again found himself saying without intending to reveal so much. Had there been some sort of truth drug in that candy?

The woman saw his sudden flash of concern, and smiled in a disarming, friendly way. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry," she assured him. "It's just part of my job, being a face for the visitor's bureau, we like to make everyone feel at home and welcome. Most folks enjoy talking about why they're here and what they've done or plan to do during their stay. It's a harmless way of breaking the ice."

He saw her point, and made an effort to relax again. "Oh, right, sorry," he said, a bit sheepish. "I guess in my line of work, you get a little suspicious of people's motives."

"Perfectly understandable. We get police officers and folks in the military visiting, and though some of them really do want to talk, others aren't so eager. Comes with the territory, I guess. Don't you mind me, I'm just an old chatterbox who enjoys people, no matter where they're from or what they do. Though I'll warn you, I'm not the only local who's like that. But if you don't want to chit-chat, that's okay, too, no one will think any worse of you for it. Folks do come here to relax, and all of us respect that. We wouldn't stay in business very long if we didn't, now, would we?"

Megamind nodded, and suddenly found himself glad that he'd taken up Roxanne's dare. Though neither of them could have known it, they had accidentally stumbled into just the right place and the right person to make him feel that he would not be looked down on as a freak here, that he would be able to remain out from under a disguise and be accepted as just another visitor who wanted a little peace and quiet, maybe along with some fun.

He smiled, a sort of dawning realization smile. "No, you wouldn't, would you? I guess I'm coming off sounding kinda paranoid. It's...just been an awfully rough few months, lately, for both of us."

"Which is why we're here," Roxanne added as she came back again. "To relax and put all of that behind us. I know this isn't much, but do you think Minion would like it? The detail on it is really nice." What she laid on the counter for him to see was a small mat or hanging, done in patchwork, the design of the many small pieces of cloth creating a sort of gentle whirlpool surrounded by three rows of waves. The piecing and stitching had been done very precisely, and the fabrics — all in shades of ocean blues and sea greens, with hints of purple and highlights of foamy white — were either of rippled batik-style colors or had been printed with patterns of tiny fish, some stylized, some realistic. The overall effect was quite charming, and had drawn Roxanne's attention the moment she'd laid eyes on it.

"That's very well done," her beau had to admit, since his appreciation of art tended to lean toward its incorporation into functional craft. His entire home — handmade from raw materials that were largely bits and pieces of items that had been salvaged or scavenged from other things over many years — was an elegant testament to this inclination. "I'm not sure what he'd _do_ with it, but I'm sure he'd like it, just for the artistry." His smile for Roxanne was warm. "It's nice of you to think of him. I suspect he'll appreciate that even more."

Roxanne dismissed his praise with an easy gesture, though she was also smiling. "I could never forget him. He's like the sweet, nice younger brother who lives with us — even though he's older, and a fish. It's not much, but it's something, and you _did _eat a little more of those 'samples' than you should have."

He blushed. "Okay, okay, you've got a point. I guess I should actually _buy _some, shouldn't I?"

"To say the least."

"I was just about to bring more out," the clerk said, disappearing into the back rooms again to fetch it.

While she was gone, Roxanne nudged her beau. "See? Interacting with the natives wasn't that bad, was it?"

Megamind answered with a mischievous grin. "No, and _I_ won the dare!"

"I was counting on it," she assured him with an affectionate kiss that she broke only when they heard the clerk returning.

While she was ringing up their selections, talking cheerfully about the weather and other such innocuous topics, more customers entered the shop. In the lingeringly blissful state that was still his normal reaction to Roxanne's kisses, Megamind didn't even notice. _They _noticed _him _as they moved into that part of the store, but beyond a few whispered words among themselves and some oddly shy, smiling glances at the oblivious alien, they made nothing more of it. The same thing happened when they left with their purchases and the informational items the clerk had given them. A couple heading toward the shop did do a double-take as they headed across the street, and there was a surprised squeak from a teenaged girl who passed them as she was walking her dog near the car, but that was the worst of it.

"Well, now, do you think you'll be able to survive more than a few days here?" Roxanne asked after they'd climbed back into the car and were on their way again.

The alien shrugged, scanning one of the brochures they'd been given. "As long as I don't lose my mind to boredom — hey, didn't that woman say the gas station was in a place called Beeley's Harbor?"

"I think she said Bailey's Harbor, but yeah, that's the place. Why?"

"This says that there's a place where you can learn kite-surfing on the bay behind the gas station — it's windsurfing with a huge kite instead of a sail! I've always wanted to learn windsurfing, but the water near Metrocity was disgusting most of the time, and I suppose I really shouldn't try this without Minion around, anyway, though maybe if I learned how before he comes up here, I wouldn't totally suck at it and we could actually _enjoy _ourselves..."

As he rambled on about the possibilities of kite-surfing and other available water sports that they might share before anyone joined them, Roxanne hid a knowing smile. Barring any unforeseen dreadful pitfalls, this whole vacation thing was beginning to look as if it just might work out well, after all.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	6. The Arrival

_Author's Note: Considering how much reaction I received concerning the cashew brittle in the previous chapter, I feel compelled to say that it was dedicated to my best friend, who I will have known for 42 years as of this week. May we continue to grow old together with the same sense of wonder that made us both enjoy this movie so very much. And as always, my deepest thanks to all who have reviewed!_

* * *

VI

The Arrival

Had they merely stopped to fill the Corvette's tank and then continued on to their destination, they would have arrived at the Scotts' summer house perhaps half an hour after leaving the shop, but while Roxanne stepped in to use the gas station's washroom, something behind the place caught Megamind's eye and he wandered over to investigate. There were some small fishing boats moving farther out from the shore, coming and going to the local marina, but what had captured his attention was a flash of color in the air, the rainbow-striped kite of a windsurfer giving a demonstration to a a small group of people standing along the shore. The man was good, showing excellent acrobatic form in some of his moves, and otherwise simply appearing to have a great time, darting and leaping back and forth across the waters of the bay. Roxanne found her beau watching the display at a somewhat greater distance, leaning against one of the picnic tables set up on a grassy area behind the gas station.

From his body language, he was perfectly relaxed but also very interested, so she returned to the café that was connected to the station, picked up some sandwiches and fresh fruit and drinks that would make a suitable late breakfast/early lunch. She returned to sit alongside him while they ate and watched the surfer, who had been joined by another. When they had finished eating and the demonstration was over, she gave Megamind a gentle nudge of encouragement, knowing from his babbling on the drive over that he was serious about wanting to learn this. After a few minutes' hesitance, he finally conceded, and went to speak to the second surfer while the first moved off to deal with those for whom the demonstration had been given.

Roxanne watched from the picnic table while Megamind talked with the fellow, who seemed neither disturbed by nor overly in awe of the blue-skinned alien. She couldn't quite hear them talking, but the sound of their occasional laughter was clear. After a good ten minutes of conversing, they shook hands. Her beau then returned, smiling, arrangements for the lessons having been made for two days later, weather permitting. With that done, they continued on to their ultimate destination.

Although Sister Bay was the largest actual town in the upper peninsula, it still boasted less than a thousand permanent residents. What Wayne had said about the number of visitors during the summer, however, was shown to be quite true. The center of the village could literally be described as "downtown," for the point at which highway 57 rejoined highway 42 was at the top of a steep hill, and the long incline from bluff height to lake level was lined with small shops and businesses. The lower, flatter part beyond the hill still had numerous small businesses, but it also boasted a park along the lakeshore, as well as a good sized marina somewhat farther down the road.

As the day was quite warm, growing hot as the sun crept toward noon, there were many boats dotting the water of the bay, but not nearly as many as the number of pedestrians, bikers, and folks on scooters who were traveling up, down, and across the road and its adjacent sidewalks. No one was in a hurry, however, so even though the going was slow for a few blocks, there was no clamor of constantly honking horns and hurled insults one might hear in the middle of a big city traffic snarl. The occasional horn blasts were largely for the sake of warning, to avoid accidents when the door of a parked car swung open into traffic or a child or a bike attempted to dart across the street.

It took perhaps five minutes to navigate this "traffic jam," and with it behind them, the new arrivals continued on. Though the turn onto Beach Road was clear enough in both Wayne's directions and on the GPS, it appeared a little less obvious in reality — at first glance, it looked to be part of a parking lot for the small restaurant beside it — so Roxanne didn't spot the road itself until they'd driven past it. Fortunately, there was what looked like a small church on the other side of the street just beyond the junction, with a real parking lot that could be used to turn around. Noting both the church and the restaurant as landmarks for future reference, they made the proper turn and continued on toward the summer house without further mishap.

The GPS was able to lead them to the correct address, which was good, since the mailbox with the address plate was half-hidden by the thick, almost wild bushes that also made spotting the entrance to the driveway difficult. "Looks like they haven't had anyone in to trim the bushes in a long time," Roxanne noted as she maneuvered the Corvette onto the gray cobblestone drive. The trees here were tall and numerous, casting the driveway into shadow and obscuring the house that presumably lay beyond.

Megamind snorted. "It figures that Wayne wouldn't think of it. He flies in and out, so why would he notice little things like a jungle blocking the road to the house?"

"It's not exactly a jungle," Roxanne chided halfheartedly, as the shrubbery did threaten to scrape the car. "But we could mention it to him, or take care of it ourselves, if there're some hedge clippers around."

Her beau wrinkled his nose. "I don't know a thing about the maintenance of _shroobery,"_ he said, adding with disdain, "and I certainly didn't come here to be Mr. Perfect Hair's gardener. What is this, anyway, a hedgerow to keep out foreign invaders?"

The reporter had to admit, things did seem a bit excessively thick — until she brought the car around the curve in the drive, and the space beyond opened up. Here, though there was still plenty of shade from the trees, there was a smallish but well-kept lawn between the row of bushes along the road and the front of the house. The building appeared to be a modest sized house in a vaguely Cape Cod style, with dormer-like windows set in the three peaks of a high roof that formed the upper floor. The roof itself was of weathered cedar shakes, and the walls sided with white clapboard. The window frames and door sashes were painted sky blue; the front door was of pale but thickly varnished oak, inset with an oval leaded-glass window and flanked by matching sidelights.

The walkway from the garage and the front porch were made of slabs of gray and tan stone. A large multi-car garage of the same style was perpendicular to the left of the house, and around the base of the main building were plantings of colorful summer flowers and lush greenery. The flower beds appeared to have been recently tended, the lawn mowed, the siding and trim freshly painted, and all the windows sparkling clean. Overall, though it was a fair-sized house, it was by no means huge, nor opulent.

The sound Megamind made in reaction to his first sight of the place lay somewhere between sarcastic humor and outright disdain. "So, this is it?" he scoffed. "From everything Wayne said, I was expecting a mansion, or at least some kind of estate house. He thinks this is big enough to _akoomodate _more than three people without constantly bumping elbows and fighting over the bathroom?"

Roxanne's chiding tongue click was weak, since she knew he was deliberately exaggerating. "I have to admit, it doesn't seem like Lord and Lady Scott's usual style. Maybe they didn't want to stick out like the jewel-encrusted sore thumb for a change, or they bought the place from someone else. There might even be zoning laws or a neighborhood association agreement they had to conform with. But it's a nice looking place at least, not tastelessly grandiose."

"I'll wait to pass judgment on that until after we've seen the inside," was her boyfriend's grim pronouncement. "Remember what you've always said about judging a book by its cover."

"Hmm, yes, and some books with beautiful covers have tacky contents." She grimaced, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. "Lord, I never stopped to think that Wayne's parents might've plastered the inside of this place with mementoes of their heroic baby boy."

The blue features twisted into a darkly threatening scowl. "If that's what's inside there, we're calling Metro Dork and having him find us somewhere else to stay, _immediately._ I will _not _spend even an hour of my vacation in a shrine to _him!"_

It was a bit of an extreme reaction, though Roxanne couldn't blame Megamind for such feelings. And she was encouraged by the fact that he hadn't said that he wanted Wayne to take them straight home. Though he hadn't said anything specific, it was clear to her that he had definitely warmed to the idea of the trip and to the region, and was willing to spend time here, removed from the pressures of their daily lives. "I won't fight you on that," she agreed. "I'm not so fond of Wayne that I'd want to spend a month looking at his face around every corner. I'm sure with his connections, he could find us another nice place to stay — but let's get a look at the inside before we get him on the phone."

That was a compromise Megamind was willing to accept. As they climbed out of the car, he gave the house's exterior a longer, more critical glance. "At least they didn't pick colors that scream 'our son is Metro Man,'" he conceded. "A nice shade of blue on the trim, actually."

Roxanne laughed. "Yes, it's a perfect match for your skin, not to mention your swelled head," she teased as they headed for the door. "It reminds me more of the colors in the white version of your working outfit rather than Wayne's old hero costume. It's a shame you don't wear it very often, 'cause you _do _look good in white."

Given that the teasing came with a compliment, the alien couldn't really object. "White doesn't work well at night," he alibied, "and the whole furry collar thing just wasn't really me."

"So who says you can't do a white cape in your own style, spikes and all, for daytime or special occasions or something? There's no rule against it, you know."

Though he still had his doubts, he could tell that she was in earnest. "I'll mention it to Minion," he allowed. "He didn't care for it when I was trying to imitate Metro Man — and I don't blame him, it was a stupid idea — but different colors in my own style... It might be worth thinking about, only for special occasions, of course."

"No rush," she assured him as she fished the keys from her purse. "It was just an idea. Okay, are you ready to see what's behind door number one?"

The green eyes blinked, baffled. "There _is _only one door," he pointed out, wondering if she'd lost her mind.

"Sorry, bad joke, old joke," she admitted. "Okay, here goes nothing." She fitted the key to the lock and, after a dramatic pause, turned it and opened the door.

The foyer that lay beyond was an open area with a stone floor much like the outer path and step. Rooms opened to either side, what appeared to be a study or parlor on the right, and a den or sitting room on the left. There was a short corridor straight ahead, which held a closet facing the bottom of a staircase to the upper floor before meeting with another, perpendicular hallway. The entrance hall ended in a half-height wall, and beyond that, there was a large, open space that seemed rather dark compared to the brightness from the windows in and beside the door. While Megamind peered up the staircase, which went up to a landing before it turned and disappeared, Roxanne moved down the short corridor toward the open area, then gasped.

The sound caught her beau's attention at once. "What is it?" he asked. "The Metro Man Museum, north chapter?"

"Nooooooo," came the drawn out reply. "But I think we were a little off in estimating the size of this place."

Now curious, he joined her, saw where she was looking, and also gasped.

The entrance to the house, it seemed, was not just the foyer but also the rooms to either side of it. What lay beyond seemed dark only because of distance; once nearer, one could see much more clearly. The darkest area was the cathedral ceiling over a great room that spread out below them. They stood above it, the half-wall forming the edge of a balcony; corridors to still more rooms on the entrance level stretched away to both sides. The great room was large, the vaulted ceiling rising high above a marble floor and sandy walls, the right of which was nearly completely taken by a wide flagstone fireplace, the left with an arched opening to still more rooms. The wall opposite the balcony was almost entirely covered with windows, in the linear styles very akin to Prairie School; all the glass panes were clear, revealing a partially covered deck that thrust out over the slope of a steep hill which led down to a permanent pier and the shimmering blue waters of the lake. The great room, like those at the front of the house, was completely furnished, comfortably and remarkably tastefully. Not a single item seemed out of place or worn; everything looked brand new, even though they knew it was not so.

"Wayne said the place had been entirely remodeled and refurnished," Roxanne remembered as they both stared at the lovely room before them. "I guess he wasn't kidding when he said no one's used the house since the work was finished. It almost looks like the showroom for an interior decorator, or an architect. And I don't see a single thing that screams Metro Man or The Scotts."

"They probably never had a chance to bring that stuff in before Lord Scott died," Megamind speculated. "Lady Scott was always the one who made a big deal over her 'Christmas present' and their family status, and if she hasn't been here since the place was redone, she wouldn't've had an opportunity to turn it into a shrine. I wonder who chose the design for this place? It's a very interesting blend of traditional Cape Cod and Prairie School with some touches of Art Deco and a modern layout, from what we've see so far."

"Probably Lord Scott," Roxanne deduced as she started looking for the stairs to the lower level. "Wayne said his dad enjoyed sailing, and a lot of the colors and decorations have a sort of nautical flavor to them. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been in the Navy when he was young, or had fantasies about going to sea. It seems like a lot of wealthy men dream about that. If they don't do it when they're young, they make believe by buying yachts and beach houses when they're older. Do you think you can live here for a few weeks, then?"

"So long as we don't come across any hidden chapels dedicated to Metro Twit. I won't give a definite yes until we've had a chance to see the entire place."

Roxanne had no problem agreeing to that stipulation, and so they took the entire self-guided tour. With the exception of a few pieces of furniture and some minor decorative items that seemed oddly out of place, they both decided the house was not only tolerable, but quite beautiful. There were some parts of it that clearly reflected the Scotts' wealth: a gorgeous indoor pool and hot tub on the lowest level, which had been constructed of and surrounded by slabs of native stone so that it looked even more like a natural pond than the one Megamind had made in his own home; the many wide windows that offered not only dazzling views of the lake but also of the woodland surrounding the other sides of the house; all the natural wood and stone floors; the well-kept gardens, the stone boathouse and pier at the shore, the huge well-appointed kitchen, the fact that it had not only five bedrooms but five full baths as well. But despite the size and the richness of it, the place still managed to retain a cozy feeling, that this was a home, not a hotel.

"I think I could get used to this, no problem," Roxanne admitted after they'd looked the place over and found their luggage, some of which had been delivered to the upper level with the bedrooms, the rest placed in an open part of the kitchen, for them to deal with and distribute as they saw fit.

Megamind didn't argue. "If I hadn't spent so many years living in a place as big as the Lair, I might feel like it was _too _big for just two people. But things being what they are, I don't think I'll have any trouble with it. Other than the fact that it could do with a few... darker touches..."

The reporter rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure, like the rooms you built in the upper Lair are all gloomy and black and Goth and full of cobwebs and torture devices! Give it up, sweetie, you just aren't as black-hearted and evil as you wanted people to believe — or as some of them wanted _you_ to believe. If true evil had a name in Metro City, it turned out to be Hal Stewart."

She hadn't meant anything bad with those words, but when she received no answer but silence, Roxanne looked up from checking the tags on the neat row of baggage in the kitchen area to see her beau looking out one of the few windows in the house that had little in the way of a view, his eyes clearly focused on nothing visible. She was about to say something when he spoke. "Is there some weird _karmoo_ with you and men named Stewart?" he wondered. There was no anger in his voice, but a considerable weight of unusually deep reflection.

She blinked, startled by a coincidence she hadn't noticed before. "Not that I know of," she said, ignoring his mispronunciation of karma. "Until this moment, it didn't even occur to me that Hal and Mitchell had that in common. But if there is some kind of fate or destiny at work, I think it's only that I need to look out for guys with that name, first, last, or middle, 'cause they'll turn out to be a nightmare for me, one way or another!"

He made a vague, unconvinced sound; she sighed, realizing that she couldn't put it off any longer. "Okay, I know what you're thinking: I promised you that I'd have an answer to your question before the end of the day. It's nowhere near the end yet, but I think I should just get it over with and clear the air now, if I can. But before I say anything else, I want you to know that I don't want to start another fight, either. I love you, and I _really _want to put all of the rotten things that happened these last few months behind us. Do you believe me?"

Several heartbeats passed before he turned to look at her, his unfocused eyes focusing on her face and its earnest expression. He nodded. "Yes. I don't think it's been a pleasant time for either of us. I'm all for settling things and getting past them. I just want to be sure I'm not burying something that'll turn out to be a land mine for us to trip over when we least expect it."

She agreed. She took a moment or three to collect her thoughts before continuing. "You asked me if I knew why Mitchell decided that now would be a good time to make a play for me. I swear to you, any attraction that he saw between us was entirely in his own head; I'm not interested in him, I never _have _been interested in him, and the only thing I ever _will _be interested in that concerns him will be seeing his sorry butt fried by a few sexual harassment suits! He wanted me to be attracted to him, he thought he could make it happen, and that's what he tried to do."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. "But why he tried something now... That wasn't entirely his fault. I... said things that probably gave him the idea that he had a shot at getting what he wanted — not intentionally, I _never_ expected that he'd twist it like this!"

The inhumanly green eyes narrowed. "What did you say?" he asked. From the flatness of his tone, it was difficult to tell if he was suspicious, upset, or merely curious.

Roxanne didn't want to answer, but she knew there was no avoiding it. "Things I never should have said," she admitted. "When the situation started to heat up with those three goons who'd been giving the whole city trouble and I started to feel the pressure of all the deadlines hanging over me at the station, Mitchell noticed that I was coming to work tired and stressed out, short-tempered and snapping at just about anything. He was still acting like a nice guy then; he seemed genuinely concerned for my welfare, and he encouraged me to talk about it, to let out what was bothering me before I blew from the pressure and did something that might ruin my career. It sounded like a good idea — better than wasting time with the counselors in the human resources department — so I talked, just about little, stupid things at first, the everyday kind of stuff that would annoy anyone."

She let out a groan filled with regret. "But it didn't stop there. When the tapes of my first two reports were ruined right around the same time you started getting tied up almost 24/7 with trying to stop the Terror Trio, I got _really _upset — at fate for having all this crap come down at the same time, at you for not being around to talk to when I wanted, at life for handing me what felt like such a raw deal all around. You know me; when I get into that kind of a mood, I vent. I don't hold it in, I yell, I throw things, I start looking for someone to lash out at."

The look of sudden comprehension that touched Megamind's expression sent a chill down Roxanne's spine, one she knew she deserved. "You vented to him about me." It wasn't a question, and she knew it.

The reporter nodded. "It was the stupidest thing I think I've ever done. You didn't deserve it, you were under just as much stress as I was — more, really, because a lot of lives were depending on you doing your job and doing it right. No one would've been hurt or died if I didn't meet my deadlines, but the way things had been building up inside me, it sure felt that way. I should never have said anything about you to Mitchell, it wasn't his business, and you didn't deserve to be betrayed like that. But that... sleaze knew what he was doing. He set up the whole thing with the ruined tapes to ramp up the stress on me and force us to work extra hours together. He acted oh-so-understanding and compassionate about the whole thing, and because I'd already let myself get manipulated into complaining about you, about how everything that was happening was... interfering with our love life, he must've decided that our relationship wasn't solid, and all he'd need to do would be to keep chiseling away until he made any cracks between us into chasms the size of the Grand Canyon!"

She dragged both hands across her face, wishing she might somehow pull away the shame coloring her cheeks. "I should _never _have said anything like that, and I feel like the worst girlfriend in existence for breathing a word about our private lives to a piece of slime like him! I don't think he was counting on your business with the Terror Trio getting resolved so quickly, and he certainly didn't expect us to head off on vacation all of a sudden, so he played his hand earlier than he would've liked. He pushed the wrong buttons with me, and he lost."

Megamind had visibly paled when she mentioned her complaints about the ways that stresses in their lives had resulted in a lack of intimacy, but somehow, exerting a greater effort of sheer will than he had ever managed to muster in his entire life, he refrained from either exploding in anger or crumbling utterly in dismay. There was a faint tremor to his voice when he spoke, but that was all. "And if things had dragged on longer before I was able to take down those three thugs, would it have made a difference?"

Roxanne winced at the quietly asked question, coming from someone who ordinarily could be so hyperdramatic. _"No," _she said emphatically. "It would _never _have made a difference, Mykaal, please believe that. I didn't get involved with you as a lark until someone better comes along; I got involved with you because I truly believe that you're the best someone who could ever possibly come into my life. Other people will never understand that, they'll never accept that I could feel this way toward someone who kidnapped me every other week for nearly twelve years. All they can see is that it looked like you were deliberately putting my life in danger; they can't see what I always knew: that you never put me in any real danger, and that you went out of your way to make sure I'd always be safe. That sometimes things went wrong and I wound up hurt a little... I know you never meant for that to happen.

"And just because I was angry about it then doesn't mean I'm still angry about it now. You asked to be forgiven, I forgave you, I meant it sincerely, and that's all that matters. Mitchell's ideas about getting me to leave you for him were all fantasies he came up with on his own. Even when I was complaining about you and the fact that we'd gotten too worn out from stress and work to ever do more than literally sleep in the same room, I never said anything about wanting someone else. That was his delusion. Even the best and most devoted couples have rough times; that's normal. The difference between them and couples who split up when the going gets tough is their degree of commitment to each other, how much they're willing to work out their problems and fix things."

"I guess that's true," the blue hero admitted. "Though it still sounds as if he's completely at fault, if he manipulated you into talking about private matters out of stress."

Her smile was watery. "It's sweet of you to say that, but I think you're letting me off too easy because you're afraid that if you don't, you'll lose me. Am I right?"

Megamind coughed, taken aback by the observation. "Ah... well..."

She was stubborn. "C'mon, now, the truth. I've been honest with you, it's your turn to be honest with me."

He squirmed, not liking the situation. He hedged, but at length, he surrendered, allowing some of his more typical manners to show in broad gestures. "Yes! Just about _everything_ makes me afraid that I'm going to lose you! It's not so hard to understand, is it? Whether you see it that way or not, a lot of people still think I'm a freak, they remember me only as a troublemaker, and I don't know that I'll ever be entirely free of those things. You deserve the best the world has to offer, and no matter how much I brag about being the smartest person in the world, I know I'm certainly not the best person in it. I'm not even human."

Roxanne dismissed that concern with a curt wave of one hand. "That doesn't make one bit of difference to me. And if it doesn't matter to me, what the rest of the world thinks doesn't matter, either. What you and I are to one another is no one's business but our own. And unless we both want to wind up unhappy and miserable and alone, we have to stop caring about what other people think. Mitchell is nothing but an underhanded idiot who's in love with himself. No woman in her right mind will ever want to be with him, because he's not capable of caring for anyone else. You are, you do, and that makes you more human than he is, where it counts: in your heart. If you're willing to forgive me for saying things about you that I should've kept to myself, I can accept it — just so long as that's what you honestly want to do. If you really feel like yelling at me and telling me off, then that's what you should do. I can work on earning your forgiveness later."

"Why would I want to do that?" He sounded genuinely unable to understand it.

She sighed. "Because sometimes, that's going to be the _right_ thing to do: to let me know that I behaved badly, and did something that was out of line. I can't deny that some of what happened with Mitchell really was my fault. I let my stress and my upset do the talking, and I showed no sense of discretion or proper judgment. Yes, it wound up exposing Mitchell for the slime that he is, but that doesn't excuse what I did. And this is something of a problem with us."

A frown creased the blue forehead. "What's a problem? That you talked to him about things that were bothering you?"

"Yes! Don't you see? When I'm upset, I turn to other people, I rant and I vent, and sometimes I do it with people who shouldn't be hearing it. I've always had that option because I've always had friends and casual acquaintances to talk to. All you've ever had is Minion. Oh, I know that he's absolutely trustworthy, but I'm also sure you don't tell him everything, not even a tenth as much as I'll tell others just to get things off my chest. I'll talk and lash out about nearly anything that bugs me; you'll do it only about certain things, and when it comes to your feelings, you close up tighter than a drum."

"But I don't—!"

"Yes, sweetie, you do." She paused, thinking hard as she carefully chose her next words. She then sighed yet again. "More coming clean: after we started dating, I heard so many people wondering if I'd lost my mind, I went to a therapist I've seen on and off, whenever my bosses started to worry that I might be getting some adverse effects from being kidnapped and caught in the middle of fights so often. This was about _me, _not about you," she added when she saw a look of horrified worry start to creep across his face. "I mean, yes, you came up in my sessions because you're a big part of my life and what was making so many other people talk, but the point was to figure out exactly what was going on in my head, not yours. Cheryl made some points that I'd never really thought about, and over the last two years, I've been finding out just how right she was. She said that while we're both pretty extroverted people on the outside, how we deal with emotional issues isn't the same at all. You act out to try to get rid of the bad feelings, but you don't talk about them. You wall them off and shut down instead; you deny they're even there. I admit they're there, I lash out and vent up a storm to the people who make me feel bad — or I rant about it to other people if I don't want to confront the responsible person directly. I fell back into that habit over the last month, and I've done it before. So have you."

The green eyes narrowed once more, not angrily, but as one might when trying to study a thing more closely. "When?"

The brunette's laugh was dry, flat. "Oh, I could name at least a dozen times right off the top of my head, but let's go for the best example, the first one that involved both of us: that night I dumped 'Bernard.' I know, we've talked about this more than once, but we never really addressed this part of it, how it shows the ways we both have trouble when it comes to how we interact with people, and how we don't handle certain things very well at all. I got angry, you tried to explain. I threw a drink in your face and stalked off in a huff. You came after me and tried to explain again, I lashed out again, wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise, and then you shut down completely. You took the abuse, walled off the part of you that was hurting, and the next day you wound up acting out and venting in the only way you knew how: by getting into a fight that you expected would end with you being punished — and for things you didn't do. You didn't kill Wayne, you didn't pick Hal to be his replacement, and you weren't the one who wouldn't take delivery on the fact that there was a reason behind the whole Bernard charade. You let other people blame you for their problems, and that just isn't right!"

"So what was I supposed to do, pin you down and force you to listen to my explanations?" He snorted. "I can't see you taking that well at all!"

Roxanne conceded the point. "I probably wouldn't have, you're right — but that's _my_ problem, not yours. I have a temper, and sometimes I let it run away with me when I shouldn't. I know that a lot of people would have a hard time understanding it, but when I look back at that night and everything that led up to it, I can see that I was wrong to call you evil because of what had happened between us. You didn't lie about how you treated me or how you behaved when you were with me as Bernard, did you?"

He swallowed, then shook his head. "No, not even when it first started. I didn't want you to figure out who I was, of course, because I knew you'd want to take me apart atom by atom. I'd been watching all your reports, and I knew exactly how angry you were over everything I'd done after Metro Man... well, didn't really die. You hated me. I could hear it in your voice and see it in your face — and don't tell me you didn't mean it," he forestalled when she opened her mouth. "You did. You were angry, you had a right to be, and you had a right to blame it on me because I _did _do some pretty awful things. But I didn't ever plan to use the Bernard disguise to change how you felt; I just wanted to keep you from finding me and stopping me from putting things right again. I messed that up, I admit it. I was so thrilled with my own brilliance in coming up with a way to make a replacement for Metro Man, I didn't listen when Minion warned me that Hal Stewart was _not _the right person for the job."

He fidgeted, running one finger along the smooth edge of the granite countertop against which he'd been leaning. "I... don't really know what I was thinking, to be honest. And that's beside the point, anyway. The first two times you met me under the disguise, I was only thinking of keeping you away, to prevent you from interfering with my plans. All that went out the window when you called me partner and hugged me. It felt good. For the first time in my life, I felt _wanted _— I've told you this before, haven't I_? _After that, I couldn't have lied to you about anything. If you'd come right out asked me if I was Megamind, I might've died from shock, but I couldn't've said no, even though I'd been telling myself that I could lie to you about it and not miss a beat. I wanted you to _like _me, because by then, I already loved you. I wanted to spend time with you, and I would've done anything to keep you in my life, but I never lied to you about how I felt, not once. I started to fix all the trouble I'd created because I wanted to see you happy, because I loved how it felt, seeing you smile instead of frown over something I'd done. I'd _hoped_ you might think better of me for it, but even when it didn't seem to change your mind, when you still thought it was all some kind of set-up for another evil plan, it didn't matter. You know me, I never give up even when I can't possibly win. I had to keep trying, to keep doing something until you understood that the real me wasn't a monster. I wanted you to be with me forever, but deep down I knew it was impossible. So the image I wore was fake, but the way I treated you never was."

She nodded her understanding, brushing back her bangs. "And that alone should've tipped me off. I'd met the real Bernard a few times before, and he was _nothing _like you. He was dull, snarky, never even heard the words charming or funny — cripes, he'd been snarky to me not three minutes before you showed up as him! It was like night and day, and if I'm even half the reporter I'm supposed to be, I should've seen it right away! Mykaal, you didn't _make_ me care for you with tricks or lies. You did it just by being the real you, even if it had to be under a disguise for me to accept it. I've known plenty of dishonest creeps in my life, the kind of guys who play with a woman's emotions and lead her on just to get something out of her. I recognize the type, I recognize the act. You never did any of that as Bernard, not once. But I didn't like the truth. I didn't want to know that I'd fallen in love with someone I was supposed to hate, so when I found out who you were under the disguise, I did what I always do. I lashed out, blamed you, and pulled away without even letting you try to tell me your side of the story. Is it justice to deny someone even a chance to defend himself?"

"But it wasn't right for me to lie about who I was. I should've told you as soon as I knew it wasn't about keeping you from finding out what I was up to, anymore."

"Maybe. But two wrongs don't make a right, and it wasn't right for me to keep jumping down your throat with accusations and not give you at least a full minute to try to explain. And it wouldn't be right this time for you to say you don't hold me to blame for what happened with Mitchell if you really do feel that I was responsible, even a little, and that you're hurt by what I did. You need to be more open with me about things like this, I need to learn to control my temper, and neither of us will get any better at it if you keep letting me get away with things when you shouldn't."

For at least a minute, Megamind said nothing, though his thought processes were almost audible. At length, he nodded. "Okay, I guess I see your point. But I can't deny that I _am _afraid of losing you, Roxanne. I hadn't ever thought that I could have any friends other than Minion, and not even in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would fall in love and be accepted by someone like you. I do suppose I know that you aren't really perfect, but I like to think that you are. It's vanity, I guess, pretending that I somehow managed to have a wonderful, perfect woman willing to be with me. You did help save me from myself, and that's always going to affect the ways I think and feel about you. I can't help that, even though it's part of why I'm so terrified of losing you. I've been rejected by you once already. I don't want to feel so empty and alone inside ever again."

Roxanne smiled softly, touched by his honesty. She moved closer to him so that she could look directly into his eyes as she took his hands. "Then would it help if I told you that as far as I'm concerned, this is _not _a temporary relationship? I want this, Mykaal, you and I, together. Whatever we call it, whatever it is, I want us to be what we are to one another so strongly, I will _never _let you go. For as long as you'll have me, you'll be stuck with me. If you're angry with me for letting Mitchell get as far as he did with his schemes, I won't feel good about it, but I'll understand why you're angry, and I _won't _leave you because of it. I'll do whatever I can so that we can work it out and stay together. That's what being a couple is all about: commitment to one another, helping one another, especially when things get tough."

The thoughtful pause was longer this time, as she'd given her beau much to consider. His eyes slipped away from hers for a bit, though he did not pull his hands from hers. He finally met her eyes again, and she was a bit startled by the openness she saw in them, as if there had always been some clear but protective curtain within them that was now completely gone. He swallowed a bit thickly before speaking. "All right, if complete honesty is what you think is best, then that's what I'll try to give you from now on. You're right, I do feel a little angry with you for telling a virtual stranger about our love life — but I'm really more hurt than angry. Why didn't you just say something to me instead of him? Don't you think I was every bit as bothered by it as you were?"

She accepted the pain caused by his frank words as fully justified. Now, she looked away for a moment, but only for a moment. "I... suppose I did know that you didn't like it, either, but I'd worked myself up into such a state that I didn't want to talk about it with you. That's my fault entirely. I _should _have talked to you, or to a counselor. Airing my complaints to anyone else was totally inappropriate, and I'm very sorry I did it. I'm sorry that I hurt you by my thoughtlessness. I can't promise to be perfect, but I will promise you that I'll try to keep any gripes I ever might have about our private lives between just the two of us. If something feels like it's going wrong, we have to work it out ourselves, or agree to take it to counseling before we drag anyone else into it, even Minion. I know he'd want to help, but it wouldn't be fair for us to drag him into something that's our problem, not his. I don't ever want to make him feel like he's caught in the middle and has to choose between us."

"And it wouldn't be fair for me to expect him to always take my side," Megamind had to admit. "He's my guardian and my friend, not my slave, and he does have a mind of his own. I agree, we shouldn't ever put him into that kind of lousy position. And for myself, I promise I'll try not to be so... closed up."

He slipped one hand from hers so that he could rub the back of his neck, both the motion and his wan smile nervous. "You _are _right about that, you know, the prison psychologists that could get me to actually talk with them for a little while always said so. I had a lot of anger I'd been swallowing ever since I first came to Earth, and they thought the whole business with me thinking that it was my destiny to be a villain was an excuse I used to act out the real feelings I'd been hiding and wouldn't talk about for fear that they would be used against me. I told them they were wrong, of course, but that never stopped it from nibbling away at me, because somehow I knew they were right, even when I wouldn't admit it to myself."

"Therapists have a way of doing that to a person," Roxanne agreed. "They help us to face the truths about ourselves, even when we don't want to see it. I'm _never_ happy to hear the truth about my temper, but I do know that if I won't face it, I can't ever make it better. We're both willing to try, that's what's really important. I don't expect either of us will be perfect, but nothing ever improves if people just sit on their hands and do nothing."

"Then it's a good thing we're both doers instead of sitters, isn't it?"

Her smile was now warmer. "Oh, definitely. I want what we have to be forever, not just for a while — so with that in mind, is there anything I can do to make amends for hurting you?"

Megamind didn't answer right away; something in her words or her tone of voice had set the perpetually moving wheels in his mind to turning in a new and different direction. He wasn't sure why, and he didn't quite know what to make of it; he definitely needed to think it over for a while. Rather than jump to conclusions over something that might be nothing more than an odd hallucination of a stressed and tired mind, he decided to focus on the immediate question instead.

He smiled back, the expression no longer tenuous. "You've already done it, you 'fessed up about what happened, and you didn't try to pin the blame on me. You can dump all the blame you want onto Mitchell, he's earned it. And if you want to do something more, you can try not to talk about him for the rest of our vacation. He's already taken up more of our time together than he ever deserved."

The reporter's blue eyes sparkled like the sun on the waters outside. "I think I can do that — in fact, I'll make it a promise. I won't bring up anything about him or that whole sorry mess unless you decide you want to talk about it for as long as we're here. When we get home, I suspect I'll have to talk about it if comes down to an actual lawsuit, but until then, not a word."

The alien's smile turned mischievous, his own eyes brightened. "Then maybe we should go with the idea of staying here a few weeks longer."

Roxanne couldn't think of a single reason to argue. "If we're still enjoying ourselves that much when the time comes, I won't say no. I haven't had more than a week or two off since I was in high school, and the idea of having more than just a few days of the summer to play..." She grinned impishly. "I like the idea. Let's at least give it a try."

"You did say that trying was important, didn't you?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good, because I think I'm ready to start trying to fix something else." When he caught her lips in a long, deep kiss a moment later, she was definitely given proof of his willingness to give it his all. And what followed was conclusive evidence that they were both ready to do more than merely start to give one another their absolute, very best.

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To be continued..._


	7. The Phone Call

_Author's Note: This chapter was originally planned to be the beginning of a longer one. However, my Muse reminded me of something that needed to be addressed, so it has been split into two shorter chapters rather than a single very long one. Chapter 8 will be posted either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks to all my lovely patient readers, and to my equally lovely and thoughtful reviewers!_

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VII

The Phone Call

As fate would have it, the months of stress as well as the early morning caught up with the lovers after a very sweet reacquaintance with that most sorely neglected part of their lives. Having decided to use what was plainly the master bedroom for the duration of their stay — it not only had the nicest furnishings, the largest and best appointed adjacent bathroom, and the most storage space, but it also had a direct connection to an outer deck and windows with an absolutely spectacular view of the lake — they'd snuggled together in the afterglow on the huge captain's bed, and soon after wound up asleep for much of the remaining afternoon. The peace and quiet of the non-urban surroundings had certainly contributed its portion to that total relaxation, along with the clean, fresh air, untainted by typical summer pollutants.

It was Megamind who awakened first this time, as he'd had a bit of extra sleep that morning, and was perfectly content to remain with Roxanne while she continued to nap. It gave him time to sort out things in his own thoughts, to appreciate the beauty of the place and his sleeping lady, and to be extremely grateful that the furniture — in particular the bed — had never been used by anyone before, especially not by Wayne or his parents. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd wondered if that might feel too... disturbing, doing things that lovers did in a house that belonged to the adoptive parents of his ex-rival. He had to admit that it was one of the biggest reasons he hadn't been terribly optimistic about wanting to stay here for long. But it was quite plain that everything in the house was new and unused, which went a long way toward making him feel more at ease here.

It was after four by the time Roxanne finally stirred, and closer to five before they were able to stop playing around and get themselves cleaned up, dressed, and ready to start looking for supper. Even though the actual distance between Metro City and Sister Bay was barely over a hundred miles as the crow flies, they had moved from Eastern to Central Time, and their bodies were thus running about an hour ahead of the local clocks. To their surprise, Wayne had had the foresight to stock some basic essentials in the kitchen and the pantry, but after a day of travel and the overdue resolution of some nagging personal issues, neither of them were in the mood to attempt cooking.

"I don't know about you," Roxanne told her beau while they investigated the food and drink situation, "but having Minion around to do the cooking has made what mediocre kitchen skills I had backslide pretty badly. I think I could manage a passable breakfast or something like sandwiches, but I have to admit, I was never that good with domestic things."

"I can manage if I put my mind to it," Megamind admitted, his head half in the refrigerator, taking quick inventory. "A lot of cooking is a kind of chemistry, after all — which Minion thinks is why I tend to come up with peculiar and barely edible concoctions, if left to my own devices. Though even he admits I can make a pretty mean grilled cheese sandwich, when I want to. I just don't, very often."

Roxanne was checking out a pile of papers that had been left on the counter of the central prep island. "Maybe we should look into cooking lessons while we're here, if anyone offers them. It would be nice to give Minion a break, once in a while."

"Agreed, though it won't solve the immediate problem." He pulled back from his investigations and closed the refrigerator door. "Wayne at least bought decent stuff, but there's nothing in there that could be made quickly, unless you want cold food or sandwiches again. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind something a little more substantial."

"Well, it won't be fast food," the reporter told him after reading some of the papers. "Wayne left some instructions on where to find things like groceries, how often the maid comes to do the cleaning, when the gardener comes, which restaurants have good food and a friendly staff, which ones are tourist traps or too snooty and should be avoided — where the fish boils are and when we should stay away if it'll freak you out. A few years ago, I wouldn't have trusted his opinion on this, but since he got tired of being the Savior of Metro City, he's gotten a lot more sensible, that way." She tapped the largest of the papers she had spread out before her. "He even made a map for us to follow."

Megamind joined her to see for himself. It was an actual map of the entire county. His former nemesis had labeled a number of points up and down the peninsula, with red Xs beside those that held the dreaded fish boils and notations as to the days and times when they'd be hosting them. Places that he'd deemed too snooty or obsequious for comfort had been marked in bright yellow, ones that were bad in other ways were highlighted in orange, those that he'd found acceptable were noted in green, and those he'd thought they'd find particularly good had been labeled in bright blue. In spite of himself, Megamind had to smile. Wayne may have been an idiot about many things, but he did know his rival and his vanity pretty well.

There were also notes, in ordinary black pen, of places like grocers, farm markets, druggists, and general shopping areas, and circles drawn around the various parks and other public recreation areas. Wayne had also been thoughtful enough to provide a few of the same brochures they'd picked up at the Visitor's Center, detailing things like boat rentals, winery tours, galleries, and other such attractions. On one, he'd affixed a sticky note: _Don't know if any of this is your thing, but I thought you might want to decide for yourselves. -WS_

This time, a small smile crept across Roxanne's face. "I might be wrong, but it really looks like this time, Wayne is trying as hard as he knows how to straighten things out, make up for all the times he was a pompous jerk," she said as she flipped through some of the other things he'd left for them.

"It's going to need a lot more effort," was her beau's opinion, which didn't have quite the bite it often did when the subject was the former Metro Man. "I'm half-tempted to do exactly the opposite of what he suggests, but I'm not in the mood to get burned by my own suspicions. So far, it does seem that he knows the area pretty well."

"Yeah, it does." She chuckled at a long list of notes she'd found from Wayne, most of which were offering some pretty frank opinions of certain businesses and the ways they treated their customers. _Only good for North Shore Nancys, _was one remark about a couple of restaurants that Roxanne knew meant that the place was only for people impressed with their own wealth and status and liked to be fawned over by the staff, who would act as impressed as they could possibly want just to pad the size of their tips. For all their huge egos, she knew that neither Wayne nor Megamind would really enjoy such a place, not when they wanted to relax and be themselves. _Strictly for tourists _was another self-explanatory notation; it usually meant overdone, overpriced, and overcrowded. Others were more positive, some quite glowingly so, and Roxanne did her best to memorize those for the nearer places, which they were likely to visit first.

At length, she set down the list and looked back at the map. "Well, should we try following one of his suggestions just to see how it works out, or should we find a dart and try that method of deciding where to go for dinner?"

The ex-villain looked for a moment as if he was pondering the Meaning of Life. Then, he shrugged. "Let's just go with one of his suggestions for something in town, something casual. That ought to give us some kind of an idea as to how much we can trust his opinions, and how well I'll actually fit in."

Liking that idea, Roxanne positioned one hand over the Sister Bay area of the map, waggled her wrist, closed her eyes, and brought down her index finger. The first stab landed in the middle of the bay itself, so she tried again. This time she landed between two restaurants in the town center, one that Wayne had marked in green but with the "tourist" annotation, the other in bright blue. Both served dinner, so they decided to go with the one highlighted in blue.

"Give me a few minutes to make a pit stop and grab my purse," the reporter said, now that the destination had been settled.

"I'll use the time to call Minion," Megamind agreed as he reached for his cell phone. "I probably should've called him hours ago to let him know we made it here in one piece."

As expected, his guardian/sidekick was delighted to hear from him. "I wasn't worried, not really," the ichthyoid hastened to assure his boss, "but since Mr. Scott said it wasn't a long drive, I guess I _was _expecting to hear something a little sooner. Did you get lost, sir?"

The blue hero rolled his eyes. "No, we didn't get lost. Really, Minion, I'm not three weeks old, anymore! I think I can follow a few simple directions without any problem!"

The fish didn't blush, but Megamind could fairly see the sheepish look he wore whenever he felt embarrassed. "Oh, yes, of course you can, sir. Is everything all right with you and Ms Roxanne?"

"Everything's fine — better than fine, actually, and that is _all _I'm going to say!"

Minion sounded genuinely pleased. "Of course, sir, I didn't mean to sound like one of those tabloid gossips! I'm very glad to hear that, and everything's fine here, too, no problems on the streets, no calls from the police. There was a fire in the warehouse district late this morning, but the brainbots helped without any trouble, this time — no leaks into the circuitry. Nipper Seven managed to get his carrying claw scorched when he tried to move a broken girder that was a little too hot, but that was the worst of it. I think Mr. Scott's a bit disappointed that things have been so quiet, but it _is _just the first day. Do you think you'll be able to stay for more than just a few days, or aren't you sure yet?"

If the cell phone had had a cord, Megamind would probably have been fiddling with it; instead, he'd picked up one of the markers Wayne had left on the counter and was doodling on the blank back of one flyer. "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think that maybe things are going to work out, after all. If something changes, I'll let you know."

"And if things get to be more than we can handle here, I'll be sure to call. Don't worry about me, sir, I'll be just fine. I was serious when I said I have a lot of things I've been wanting to do when I had the time, and when I wouldn't run the risk of boring you with it."

"Your hobbies do _not_ bore me...!"

The answering "Uh-huh" was clearly dubious. Rather than start an argument, Minion was wise enough to change the subject. "I'm glad you called to let me know you made it safely, sir, and I'm even happier to hear that everything's better than fine with you and Ms Roxanne — but you don't need to call every day! I'm kind of looking forward to hearing all the stories of what happened when you get home."

"Or when you come to join us." The green eyes flicked about the large kitchen, to the dining room and other adjacent chambers and decks beyond, all with plenty of windows to the beautiful world visible through their clear glass. "Wayne was right about this place being big enough to hold a pretty fair number of people without trouble, and I think you'll like it here — as long as you weren't kidding about not being bothered by the fishing thing."

Minion chuckled. "Nope, not at all. Let's wait and see how things go. You haven't been there even a day, after all, and I haven't had much of a chance to start those things I want to do! Oh, and I just remembered! I forgot to ask Ms Roxanne if it's all right with her if I move those boxes full of her files and papers into the cabinets in the home office you built for her. Chomper Two and Spike Fifteen came across them last night while they were 'playing.' They didn't damage anything but the boxes, and Pinky has them back in order, but I thought it'd be a good idea to get them put away where it's safe before the other bots find them again and _do _ruin them."

Megamind didn't need to ask before giving an answer. "I'm sure she won't have a problem with it, that's part of why I made that room for her."

"I know, but... well, I just wanted to be sure she'd be okay with me handling her personal papers. There might be some private things in there, stuff she doesn't want me to see."

The blue hero couldn't help but smile at his friend's nervous tone, as if the fish feared he might accidentally come across items that went beyond merely "private." He could hear the sound of Roxanne returning, and thus made a decision. "I don't think she'd care much one way or another, but you can ask her yourself, if you want."

Now, the tone was clearly relieved. "I'd feel better about it, sir, that's for sure."

"Okay, just a sec." As Roxanne entered a moment later, he held out the phone to her with an oddly amused expression. "Minion has a question for you," he explained, and she set down her purse to take the proffered phone.

"Hi, Minion," she greeted cheerfully. "What's up?" She smiled as the fish explained the situation to her. "No, I don't mind if you take care of that stuff, I've been putting it off too long, anyway. There's nothing in there that's too private for you to see. Just make sure you put the folder with things like my birth certificate and passport somewhere easy to find. I kept losing track of them when I was still in the apartment, putting them someplace 'safe' and then forgetting where that was. Yeah, I do that, too. Thanks, Minion, I appreciate you doing this for me. What? Oh, sure, hold on."

She held out the phone again, returning it with a grin. "He has something else he wants to tell you."

Megamind made a wry face as he took the phone. "Probably wants permission to fumigate the lab, or have the Brain do a total refurb on all the floors," he muttered, not irritably. "Yes, Minion, what is it?"

This time, aware that someone else was in the room with his boss, the piscine's voice was a bit quieter. "I probably should've mentioned it sooner, sir, but that screening bypass you set up for Ms Roxanne's cell number has been working overtime. Mr. Mitchell's been trying to contact her every fifteen minutes since five this morning. I don't know if you want to mention this to Ms Roxanne, and both Mr. Scott and I will make sure he doesn't find out where you are, but I thought you should know in case he decides to start snooping around. I don't know if he'd actually come after you if he did find out where you went on vacation."

Now, the expression on the mobile blue face turned hard. "Just let him try, it won't matter. But thanks for the head's-up."

"No problem, sir. I hope this doesn't spoil your holiday."

"Oh, it won't, I promise you. But if anything changes on that front, let me know."

"I will, sir, though I'd rather stop him from getting that far. He's caused enough trouble for both of you already."

Megamind snorted. "You don't know the half of it." He paused for a moment, thinking furiously, then came to a decision. "Look, if it comes down to that, tell Wayne. He's dealt with things like this before, and he'll know how to handle it without causing more problems."

"Will that be all right with Ms Roxanne?" Minion was clearly concerned about the notion of hiding things from her.

"I'll find out, and if it isn't, I'll get back to you."

That eased his sidekick's conscience considerably. "Oh, good, thank you, sir. I hope this won't ruin your evening."

"I'm sure it won't," was the not entirely certain reply. After a few exchanges of a more pleasant nature, they said goodbye.

With the call ended, Megamind returned the phone to his pocket while Roxanne watched with a curious expression. He knew she would have picked up on the general tenor of his last conversation with Minion, and in keeping with their agreed upon policy of honesty, he explained. "I didn't want Mitchell to come after you, either to harass you with more pressure or to whine at you about forgiving him, so last night, after you went to sleep, I snuck down to the lab and put a filter in the relay I use to guarantee that our phones will get strong signals wherever we are. It's screening all incoming calls to your phone and blocking any that come from him, sending him straight to a dummy voice mail I set up back at the Lair. He's been calling about every fifteen minutes since early this morning, according to Minion."

For a moment, Roxanne felt her temper rise, as it always did when she felt she was being needlessly coddled. A moment later, she remembered their pact and realized that he'd just told her what he'd done in an effort to adhere to it. Determined to keep her part of the bargain, she took a mental step back and tried to understand why he'd done this. With a cooler head, she recognized it as a form of protectiveness, but in this case not unwarranted. Mitchell was a big part of why she needed this vacation so badly, and to have him constantly trying to call her to either threaten or plead with her could have easily ended any notion of rest and relaxation before it had a chance to begin. Megamind was being honest with her now, telling her what he had done and why, and she found that all things considered, it had been a good idea on his part.

She nodded. "Okay, that actually makes a lot of sense," she admitted. "And it explains why you wanted to stay in bed this morning, you were up later than I thought. You could've told me, you know. I wouldn't've argued with it."

"I know, but I didn't think of it until you were almost asleep, and this morning, I was too out of it to think of explaining. I may have a fantastic memory, but my brain's entirely too good at filing away things like this when I'm too tired to really think straight. Until now, I probably would've explained things badly and gotten you upset. But I'm still sorry if you're bugged about not knowing sooner."

Now, Roxanne shook her head. "No, I'm not bothered. Having Mitchell call me every fifteen minutes, _that _would bug me! And I don't really want to talk to him again until I can't avoid it — which means either in court or with lawyers present. If he keeps this up, having recordings of him trying to manipulate me through voice mails will just provide more concrete evidence for a harassment case. Thanks for thinking of this, sweetie, I appreciate it. Though I'm not sure how much good it'll do if he tries calling from someone else's phone."

The ex-villain's smile reverted to his best evil form. "Oh, I'm sure he already has. The way I set things up, all of your calls, except from me, Minion, or Wayne will first get picked up by the screener. The person on the other end will think they've got your voice mail, and when they start to leave a message, voice recognition will kick in. As soon as it detects Mitchell's voice, it'll keep him stuck talking to the dummy voice mail. If it's anyone else, it'll ring your phone and they'll just think you picked up after the message recorder kicked in."

"Very clever," she commended as she collected her purse and they headed for the car. "Though it won't stop him if he starts to get sneaky and has someone else begin the call from a different number."

Her beau doubted the schmuck could be that intelligent at the same time he would put no underhanded tactic beyond him. "If he scrapes together enough brains to try that, you can have the pleasure of hanging up on him yourself."

She sniffed, a delicate sound of complete disdain. "If he _does_ try it, I'll just shut off my phone for the duration. I know he doesn't have your number, and anyone back home who needs to get hold of me will know to call Minion. I trust him just as much as I trust you."

The alien's answering smile was brilliant. "Do you trust me enough to drive your car, this time?"

She laughed, and handed him the keys. "Always. Just no speeding and no stealth mode, got it?"

"Got it," he promised, and was true to his word.

_

* * *

To be continued..._


	8. The Dinner

_Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to "James," "Kate," and "Rosemary," my "posse." In all the many millions of words I have written in a variety of fanfic universes (no, I'm not kidding, I really have written millions of words of published fanfic, aside from all the original tales I've written), I have never, EVER included a character who was even a vague simulacrum of myself (with the exception of a few extreme parodies where I was poking fun at a genre I was supposed to be taking seriously). This is the one and only time I have broken and will ever break that solemn promise to myself, never to engage in this practice. But this is also the last you will see of these characters. I did this for the enjoyment of the three people who are my closest and dearest friends and family. As they've been reading these stories as I post them, I truly hope that they, and all my other gentle readers, will enjoy this._

* * *

VIII

The Dinner

The fact that their bodies were running an hour ahead of local time worked for them now, as it had them out and seeking supper earlier than many of the other visitors. When they arrived at their destination — a café just over two miles from the Scotts' house, right outside the city center park they had passed on their way in — the dinner crowds weren't out quite yet, although the restaurants serving supper were open for business. Roxanne, as the passenger, had a chance to look more closely at things she'd missed as the driver during their arrival.

She pointed out a very Scandanavian style building across the street. "That's the other restaurant, the one Wayne marked as being okay, but largely for tourists. I wonder why — oh, would you look at that?"

Her sudden exclamation had Megamind slamming on the brakes; fortunately, there were no cars or other vehicles close behind them. "Look at what? Turkeys?"

She poked him playfully. "No, silly. Goats." She pointed.

He followed her finger, and saw what had caught her attention: grass covered roofs atop the Scandinavian restaurant, complete with several large white goats, grazing on the greenery or lying down to sun themselves in the summer's warmth. The sight caused the blue hero to blink, testing the accuracy of his vision; when it became clear that this was no hallucination, he wasn't sure if he should be surprised, shocked, appalled, or something else. To the people on the sidewalk taking pictures, it seemed weirdly expected.

"Why would anyone grow grass on their roof?" he wanted to know, totally befuddled. "And why would they raise goats there?"

"Mostly for the tourist trade, I imagine," Roxanne said with a shrug. "That's something they apparently used to do in parts of Sweden. When I was the newsperson in Coppertown, one of the Swedish locals tried doing it to drum up business for his feed store. It worked for a while, until the neighbors complained and got the town council to enforce zoning laws about farm animals in non-farming areas. Here, the town obviously doesn't have a problem with it. I think I remember coming across this when I did that report a few years back. The restaurant's world famous for those goats, but it's mostly just a thing for the tourists. I expect that's why Wayne made the note."

"Well, I hate to admit it, but this time, I agree with him," Megamind said, making the oddest face as he started the car moving again. "I refuse to eat anywhere that has livestock wandering right over our heads! How unsanitary!"

Roxanne chuckled. "Not really, I'm sure they have to be extra careful about that or it wouldn't be allowed. They have health inspectors up here, too, you know."

He was willing to allow that this was true, even though he wouldn't acknowledge it with more than a dubious grunt. To his relief, the much smaller café that was their destination had no critters in evidence, other than a drowsy gray cat lounging in a patch of sun near the back entrance.

It surprised both of them that Wayne had marked this place as being exceptionally good, for it was not in any way opulent or extravagant. Space-wise, its dining room was only a bit bigger than the great room at the Scott house, and while it was clean and nicely decorated, it was very simple, the most elaborate thing about it being some brightly stenciled Scandinavian style designs running around the room at chair rail height. A few of the tables were occupied with guests, but as the place had only recently opened for dinner, it was by no means crowded yet.

The hostess — who had been chatting with a couple seated near the back of the room, which overlooked the park — came to greet them. There was no denying that her eyes widened and she did a double-take when she saw the blue-skinned, cranially over-endowed alien standing there with the pretty but otherwise normal looking brunette. Megamind braced himself for some sort of adverse reaction, be it horror or over-excitement, but when the woman simply smiled and asked if they had any seating preferences, he allowed himself to stand down a bit.

Roxanne decided to be bold rather than ask for a table away from the other guests or the windows — not that either would have been terribly doable, as the place was small and well appointed with windows. She selected a table toward the front of the room, in a corner right beside the windows but away from the kitchen entrances. Megamind wanted to object — that position seemed too exposed, and was adjacent to another table where a group of four diners were cheerfully chatting and sipping at drinks, having just placed their own meal orders. When they sat down, however, he found that the white and red half curtains and valences over the windows allowed in the light but also partially obscured those sitting nearest them, so that they could dine in peace and not feel as if they were on display to anyone passing by on the sidewalks outside.

The hostess — a pleasant middle-aged woman whose dark blonde hair was showing the barest hints of silver — informed them of the day's specials as she handed them their menus. Megamind was certain he saw her glance back once or twice as she returned to her station near the entrances, but the looks were merely curious, not accusing or intrusive.

"Calm down, it'll be okay," Roxanne recommended when she noticed his jitteriness. "You've gotten worse reactions from shop and restaurant owners back home who actually _enjoy_ having you in their places."

He murfled a little, as he did when confronting a situation he wasn't quite ready to accept. She smiled, understanding. Ready acceptance by complete strangers was not something he was yet willing to believe would be possible without hidden and horrible repercussions, so she did her best to be soothing. "Why don't you just look over the menu and decide what you want to eat? Wayne didn't have any notes about having any particular favorites, here."

Now, the alien sniffed. "I can't imagine wanting to follow his suggestions," he said somewhat airily. "Our tastes are nothing alike."

"Oh, I don't know," the reporter bantered back. "You both seemed to have the same tastes in women — or should I say woman?"

Megamind lowered his menu long enough to stick out his tongue. She laughed, and the tension was eased. He then turned his attention to the serious business of selecting a meal, frowning as he scanned the menu. "What on earth is _that?" _he demanded, laying the thing flat on the table and pointing to certain lines of text. "Those aren't even words!"

Roxanne glanced at the places he was indicating, then took a better look at the same lines on her own menu. She smiled wryly. "They're words, they're just not English. I think they're either Swedish or Norwegian."

"Norwegian," a waiter said as he came to their table with a pitcher of ice water, with which he filled their glasses. He was a dark-haired youngish fellow, probably of college age, wearing black slacks, a crisp white shirt, a red vest and tie, along with a friendly smile. "But please don't ask me to pronounce them," he said with a twinkle in his brown eyes, his own words spoken with a foreign accent that happily was not very thick. "I'm only summer help, from Lithuania, going to college here in the U.S. come fall. I can tell you what the dishes are, but only in English — or Russian, if you speak it."

Megamind shook his head, his expression oddly startled as he looked up at the waiter. The most foreign people he encountered in Metro City were parts of its Hispanic and Oriental communities, and by and large, those he met were as Americanized as all the other citizens. Meeting people who were aliens from other countries was a strangely new and interesting experience for him. "Is the rest of the staff from the same country?" he wondered.

But the young man — Marco, from his nametag — shook his head. "Oh, no. Some are locals, but some of us are students from abroad working here for the summer, from different countries. Ingri is actually from Norway, but she only works the day shift during the week. Mrs. Jensen, the hostess, could help you say the words correctly, if you like..."

"Maybe later," Roxanne told him with a friendly smile. "I think we're mostly interested in knowing about the food. Right, sweetie?"

Megamind, whose brain had been busily at work processing all the possible pronunciations of the strange-looking words — why did some of the letters have such peculiar marks around them or through them? — had to drag his attention back to the moment. "What? Oh, yes, that's true, I just want to know what I'm eating before it eats me! Some of those words... if they don't look like words, are they really about things that are edible?"

"Oh, yes, very edible, very delicious! Let me see..." Marco then proceeded to describe and answer their questions about some of the more unusually named dishes, which, with a few exceptions, appeared to be ethnic variations of familiar foods. After he had filled them in to the best of his ability, the waiter took their drink orders and left them to make their decisions.

"I'm surprised he could remember all that," Roxanne said as she raised her water glass to take a sip. "I know I couldn't, especially with the names in a language I don't even know."

"I'm surprised he didn't seem at all put off by my appearance," her beau admitted, partially from behind the safety of his menu. "Even back home, I still get people who either can't stop staring at me or can't look straight at me. Why is it different here?"

His girlfriend shrugged. "Maybe because he's not a local, either, and he knows what it feels like to be an outsider. From what he said, it sounds like a lot of the staff is in the same position, and if it's like that here, in a small restaurant, I'll bet it's even more common in the big places, like the busy resorts. That could be why the locals aren't freaked out by things like a blue-skinned alien. As long as you don't act so strangely that you make people think you're crazy or dangerous, you're just another visitor from far away."

That was a lot for Megamind to contemplate, not because it was complicated, but because it was shockingly simple. He pondered it for perhaps a minute, then was reminded by his stomach that it wanted more immediate attention. He turned his eyes back to the menu, sighing softly. "I still have no idea what I want," he admitted, a little more loudly than he'd intended.

One of the women seated at the table beside theirs — the talkative group of four, one middle-aged man who looked to be about fifty and three women of similar age — leaned back slightly and stage-whispered, "Try the Norwegian Meatballs. They're a good place to start if you've never had Scandinavian cuisine before, and they make them _very _well here."

"Oh, you're just saying that because James has them every time we come here," one of the other women said to the one who had suggested the meatballs. "The pork cutlet is _much _better, especially with the mashed potatoes and rutabaga..."

"And _you're_ saying that because this is one of the few places where you can get some kind of mashed potatoes without chicken stock in 'em, Kate," the first woman replied, in what sounded like a very old and comfortable banter. "She's right, though," she added over her shoulder again. "We've never had anything here that they make badly — as long as it's not something we're allergic to, like Kate and poultry and me and mushrooms."

"That's for sure," the third woman chimed in, smiling broadly. "There aren't many places that can make fish so Jeanne will eat it."

The one talking over her shoulder, Jeanne, hissed at that, though in a friendly way. "Hey, now, don't say the F word in front of _him,_ Rosemary! You should know better!"

Rosemary, a graying blonde who was no taller than either Roxanne or Megamind, blushed. "Oops, sorry, I forgot!"

Roxanne smiled. "Oh, so you know who we are?" she asked in such ponderously droll tones, all those at the other table laughed.

"We're all from the Milwaukee area," the one called Kate — a tall, ashy blonde who may or may not have been the eldest of the group — explained. "Rosemary's brother was one of the emergency personnel on call at Summerfest last year."

Rosemary was now blushing even more deeply, but still smiling. "He met both of you for a few minutes, and we heard about it for months. He's always been very interested in things like the existence of extraterrestrial life."

"And _we_ aren't?" James — who was the tallest of the four, with silvering black hair — added, his remark as droll as Roxanne's. That set all four to laughing, and they had to explain that they'd all been very interested in things like the space program and astronomy for many years. To them, the proof of life beyond the Earth was perhaps the most extraordinary news to come along in their lifetimes.

The four were all friendly and remarkably open, though some were more talkative than others. Kate and Jeanne were sisters, the former older and widowed, the younger married to James; the sisters were by far the most garrulous. Rosemary, a single woman, had been a friend of Jeanne's for so long, she was essentially an adopted member of the family. They'd been vacationing in the area for years, staying in various places as they did not own property here, but because they liked moving about and trying new things, they were very familiar with the region and many of its amenities and facilities. None of them saw anything unusual at all about Metro City's alien protector coming here for rest and relaxation; they actually thought it was an excellent idea, for all the reasons both Wayne and Roxanne had already come up with.

They were about to let the couple have their privacy again when Marco returned with their drinks, ready to take their orders. Roxanne kindly eschewed the fish and selected one of the more adventuresome pork dishes, while Megamind, still vaguely undecided, finally settled for the suggested meatballs. Half-whispers of, "Good choice," drifted over from the married pair at the other table, so puckishly that it made the younger couple laugh. "If you like them," Jeanne added, "we can give you some recommendations for dessert, too."

"Bread pudding," Kate intoned, as if speaking of the nectar of the gods. _"Definitely_ the bread pudding."

"Or the rød grød med fløde," Rosemary piped up, her blush now faded.

Both Megamind and Roxanne regarded her with some awe. "Do you speak Norwegian?" the latter asked.

The blush was back. "No, I just like the dessert, and we've been here often enough that I've finally picked up how to pronounce it," she said with a self-effacing chuckle.

"You've all been here often?" Megamind asked, now curious in other ways. "This area, I mean, not this restaurant."

"Well, we could say yes to both," Kate admitted.

"Then do _you_ know where the turkeys are? The wild ones, I mean. I was told that there are lots of wild turkeys here."

Roxanne made an exasperated face at his preoccupation with this particular subject, but it didn't trouble the others one bit. "I don't know about _lots," _Jeanne said, "but we've seen them, yes. In the fall, they like to hang out in places like Peninsula State Park, but this time of year, you're more likely to see them inland, where there are orchards and woods and farm fields, away from all the people hanging out and making noise along the shores."

"We saw a flock over the weekend along County A, between Ephraim and Jacksonport," James added, his pronunciation of the first town's name so odd, Roxanne couldn't help but wonder if he had some of Megamind's mispronunciation issues. She was too polite to say anything, and the blue hero didn't even notice.

"Jacksonport," he latched onto instead. "We stopped there on our way here, at the visitor's center."

Rosemary's eyes lit up. "Did you try the cashew brittle?"

Megamind turned purple with remembered embarrassment; Roxanne giggled. "Oh, yes, he tried it. Ate half their samples — bought half their stock, too."

Now, the spark in the older woman's gray-blue eyes faded to a look of profound disappointment. "You did? Aw, darn, I hope they still have some left by tomorrow! We were going to stop there on our way to Cave Point!"

"She's an addict," Jeanne explained. "Can't get enough of the stuff."

"Sounds familiar," Roxanne sympathized, covering a snicker.

"What _is _this cavepoint?" Megamind asked, now fixating on another unanswered question.

James fielded this as Marco showed up again with their salads and soups and baskets of breads. "It's a point of the shoreline along the Lake Michigan side of the peninsula, where the winds and the water have made caves in the dolomite bluffs. We can't come up here without visiting it at least once, or Rosemary gets upset."

"Not upset," the woman in question defended. "Just disappointed. It can be very different depending on the winds and the weather, and it's beautiful all the time, no matter what the season. When things are calm, you can walk out on the stone flats, a hundred feet from the bluffs, and when it's windy or stormy, you can't stand at the top without getting splashed by the waves. And you can feel the whole bluff tremble when the waves are pounding — it's positively awe inspiring! Jeanne, did you bring your iPad?"

Jeanne snorted, attacking her dry salad with a fork. "Are you kidding? When you're married to a computer geek, you never leave home without at least two pieces of electronic equipment, not counting the cell phone."

"Well, show them the pictures!" Rosemary turned to the inquisitive couple from Michigan. "She has a lot of pictures on it that she's taken of the Point in different weather, different seasons," she explained while her friend set down her fork and pulled her purse up from beneath the table.

"Oh, we don't want to be a bother," Roxanne began to forestall, not wanting to interrupt the dinner of people they'd just met.

"No bother," Jeanne assured her. "If I'm going to lug the thing around, I might as well get some decent use out of it. There's no lock code," she said as she passed it to Megamind, who was the nearer of the two and the obvious computer and gadget geek of the couple. "The pictures are in the photo app, in the album labeled Cave Point. There are other photos from around the area in the Door County album."

As the alien owned an iPad of his own, he was familiar with the way it worked. Roxanne scooted her chair a bit closer to his to lean over and improve her view of the screen. The images of the Point — wooded, rocky, arching out over the sometimes blue, sometimes gray, sometimes startlingly green waters of the lake — were quite stunning. They had clearly been taken on different days at different times of year, as the foliage changed from spring to summer to autumn. In some images, the green-blue water was as smooth as glass, so clear that the cracks in the stone bottom were plainly visible, with people swimming in and around the cave pockets at the base of the bluffs. In others, angry waves pounded the bluffs so hard, their spray reached up higher than the people standing atop the natural stone wall.

Roxanne glanced up at Jeanne, who was working on her salad. "Are you a photographer?"

The tall, dark-haired woman shook her silvering head, clearing her mouth before answering. "Artist and musician. I enjoy photography as a hobby, though. Some of those pictures were taken only a few days apart — the obvious summer ones in particular. You can see just how much the weather makes the place change."

Megamind was nodding mostly to himself as he studied the details of several images. "It _is _sort of a point with holes in it," he observed. "It looks like it would be an interesting place to swim, when the water's warm and calm — and clean."

"Clean isn't much of an issue, here," James noted. "They're pretty fanatical about not polluting one of their biggest natural assets."

Jeanne nudged him. "Hey, c'mon guys, we're not the local chamber of commerce. I don't think they came here for a travelogue."

"No, no, we don't mind!" Roxanne assured her. "He's been wondering about this place since we drove past the signs for it on the way here. We'll have to make sure we go there ourselves before we head home. It does look quite beautiful, not much at all like the sandy shores that are most of what we have around Metro City."

"Comes from being on the windward side of the lake," James remarked idly. "Prevailing winds just pound everything to grit. That's where the Michigan and Indiana dunes come from."

"He's a science geek, too," his wife commented, amused. "And a font of useless information, as he likes to call it. He also used to sail."

Megamind looked up from the Pad, passing it to Roxanne so that she could have a better look at the photos. "Do you windsurf?"

The older man shook his head. "I couldn't afford the equipment when it first became popular, and now, I'm a little too out of shape to start. But there are plenty of windsurfers along the Milwaukee lakefront during the summer, and I've enjoyed watching those kite-surfing guys over in Bailey's Harbor. They're good."

"I know, I saw them this morning!" The alien enthusiastically told him of not only the demonstration they'd witnessed, but of his long-standing notions of learning the sport, the troubles with pollution in Metro City's waters, and his planned lessons.

Before long, they were all talking quite amiably, not just about windsurfing or the area or even vacations, but about a wide array of topics. While Megamind and Roxanne certainly won the prize for most the unusual and colorful occupations, the other visitors had a remarkable wealth of experiences, everything from teaching and journalism to botany, electronics, patent law, music, and graphic arts. Rosemary was even a retired prison librarian, which probably explained a lot about the group's ability to accept the company of a recently reformed criminal. In Megamind's experience, former prison workers either couldn't abide the presence of anyone who had a known record, or they were remarkably compassionate, knowing that life behind bars was difficult, and often stemmed from a troubled or abusive childhood. Happily, these people were of the latter type, as well as genuinely interested in him as an utterly unique person, not as a famous (or infamous) curiosity.

Marco and the rest of the staff with whom they interacted were also accepting, though one of the waitresses was amusingly shy, simply because she was also from overseas and had no idea that anyone like the blue-skinned alien truly existed. The atmosphere and the company was pleasant, the food excellent — as anticipated, the meatballs were a hit, as were the assorted side dishes and the two suggested desserts, both of which the slender alien happily enjoyed in full servings. Their serendipitous dinner companions didn't find his appetite in the least bit strange, as James had been tall, almost as skinny, and every bit as voracious in his youth, thanks to an extremely high metabolism.

"He once ate an entire pan of lasagna and a whole loaf of garlic bread at a family dinner, just after we were married," Jeanne quipped. "We never could figure out where he was putting it, 'cause he could eat like that every day and never gain an ounce, stayed skinny as a rail. It's a family legend."

"And it's not fair," Kate added with feigned grumpiness. "Guys always get the breaks when it comes to food. For women, it's a moment on the lips, forever on the hips."

"Amen," Roxanne agreed with a sigh, watching her beau finish his second dessert.

Megamind blinked up at her, all innocence. "What?" he asked, licking away a dollop of the red goo from the Norwegian berry dessert that had gotten stuck to one corner of his mouth. "You're perfect just the way you are, Roxanne. Have I ever complained?"

Smiling, she used her napkin to wipe off a few tiny flecks of whipped cream that were dotting his goatee. "No, never, and it's awfully sweet of you. A woman likes to hear her guy say things like that, even when she knows they aren't exactly true. And I think you're perfect just the way you are, M—" She clamped down her lips on the initial hum of the M, realizing that she was about to slip and break her promise not to use his real name in public. After dragging out the sound a bit too long, she managed to finish with, "—egamind," rather than leave the word hanging, incomplete.

"That has to feel awkward, sometimes," Jeanne remarked idly, examining the bill Marco had brought for their dinners. "Do you have another name, or is that really what the state named you?"

Swallowing the last bite of the berry custard and still distracted by the pleasant experience of eating food made from amazingly fresh ingredients — much fresher, it seemed, than anything that was shipped into Metro City's markets — the ex-villain shook his head. "No, that's just a professional name I picked for myself when I was thirteen. Before that, I was called a number of things, but my real name's Mykaal."

Roxanne's sharp gasp was enough to make him realize what he'd just done. Eyes wide with shock at his own stupidity in revealing something like that to people he didn't even know, he clamped one hand over his mouth. How had he done that? _Why _had he done that? He looked from Roxanne's startled face to those of the strangers, his eyes narrowing now with suspicion as he began to glare at them.

But he saw nothing in their expressions to indicate any hidden ulterior motive behind the innocently asked question he'd unwittingly answered with the truth. They looked almost as surprised as he felt. Jeanne merely nodded. "That's not for general consumption, I get it. I'm sorry if I was out of line. It's just something I've wondered about ever since we started hearing news about you. I've always had an interest in names and languages, and I just couldn't believe that anyone would've actually named you something like Megamind, not as a baby — but I won't repeat this." She chuckled. "Heck, with my hearing, I can't even be sure I heard it right in the first place." When she tapped one ear, they only then noticed that she was wearing hearing aids in both.

"Same here," Rosemary agreed, nodding, though there was nothing visible to indicate her loss of hearing.

"And I'm lousy with names, period," Kate confessed. "It took me years before I stopped mixing things up. I went through a few months where I was _sure _it was Metromind and Megaman. Give me ten minutes and I'll forget the subject even came up."

James didn't say anything until the three women at his table favored him with meaningful looks, prompting him. "What?" he spluttered most ingenuously. "I heard, but I'm not much better than Kate when it comes to names, unless it's one of my bosses whose nose'll go out of joint if I _don't _remember! And in my job, if I can't keep things confidential, I'd be out the door. It was a slip of the tongue, and I won't repeat it."

A part of the reformed villain was jumping up and down and screaming that he had been tricked, that all this easy friendliness and ready acceptance had been part of a nefarious plot to trip him into revealing secrets that would now be plastered across every tabloid and repeated in every televised gossip show around the world, across the Internet. Hadn't some of these people claimed connections in journalism, after all?

But when he briefly glanced at Roxanne, he didn't see those same worries reflected. She seemed concerned about how he would react to having let this slip, but there was no sign of the defensive posture she usually displayed when people in the media or nosy fans tried to wheedle him into revealing personal information or saying things just so they could be twisted to make juicy gossip. Seeing that serenity in her, the part of him that was capable of much more rational thought began to coax his hyper-defensive side into calming down a bit, to consider things more reasonably.

And as it did, Megamind was able to think about what had just occurred more clearly. That one innocent question was really the only thing any of these strangers had asked; in all honesty, they had volunteered much more information about themselves, and hadn't tried at all to pry into his business, or Roxanne's. They had assumed the couple was here vacationing; they hadn't even asked for specific confirmation of it. If they were after secrets to exploit for nefarious purposes, they could've asked why they were here, who was looking after Metro City in its defender's absence, where they were staying, when they were leaving, what was on their itinerary... Oh, there were many more invidious things they could have been probing for, but the truth was, they'd done vastly more talking about themselves and answering _his _questions than they'd asked any questions of their own.

As what little common sense he was able to summon under such circumstances somehow managed to assert itself, he lowered the hand over his mouth, looked from Roxanne's encouraging face to those of the four strangers, and managed a small, shaky smile. "You're... ah... right, that's not supposed to be common knowledge. Some things _do _have to stay private."

James chuckled, his manner amused but kindly. "That's understandable. It's not like it'd be easy for you to have a secret identity, after all." To which his companions all agreed.

Megamind fairly shivered with relief. "Exactly! Oh, thank heavens, you _do _understand!"

"A lot of people understand about secrets," Kate said, rather more seriously than he would've expected. "Normal, ordinary people, not just celebrities or persons who like to dig dirt. Keeping too many secrets isn't healthy, but everyone needs to keep some things private, just to feel like you have some control over your own life."

"Especially when it feels like everyone _but _you is controlling it," Jeanne agreed. "We came from a kind of crazy family, the sort that keeps too many secrets. It's probably why we rattle on so much!" she added with a laugh. "But we do know how to keep our mouths shut, too. We won't repeat this."

Megamind could see that they all were in earnest; the name would not be repeated, and nothing more said of the incident. Even more greatly relieved, he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thank you. I... suppose I overreacted a little, but I can count on my fingers just how many people I've told this to. Three days ago, I could count it on just _one_ hand. I don't know what came over me, _blooting _it out like that!"

Roxanne smiled, placing her hand over the one he'd rested on the tabletop. "I do. It's called feeling relaxed among friends, feeling like it's okay and safe to just be you. That's not a bad thing at all. You've never had much of that in your life. Maybe you slipped just now because something inside felt like it's time, like you're ready for it."

"I don't think so," came the reflexive response, contradicted by a niggling inside him. If he was going to be honest with himself, he had to admit that it did feel good, not having to watch every word he said out of fear that he might say something wrong, something for which he would be judged and punished. His overt behavior was extroverted, sometimes quite thoughtless when it came to saying things and recognizing how they affected others, although he was getting much better about that. But when it came to talking about himself, his instincts may have prompted what appeared to be pure bragging and self-aggrandizement, yet those things were actually defenses and deflections, ways of keeping others from coming too close to a very vulnerable core, made all the more sensitive from years of rejection and abuse.

Surprisingly, something clicked in his head as he reflected on these things, like a light being turned on where there had only been shadows. What was it that the one woman had said? _We came from a kind of crazy family, the sort that keeps too many secrets. _There had been laughter in that admission, but sadness as well. Of course. He wasn't the only person in the world who had been abused, who carried around the pain of secrets swallowed in a vain attempt to be rid of them, or at least lessen the pain.

He knew this; with a girlfriend who was also a reporter, he'd seen plenty of stories about the horrors of child abuse. But though people talked a great deal about the suffering of children in abusive situations, who ever spoke about what became of those children when they grew up, were adults, and were no longer suitable subjects for the pity of people who only paid attention to victims who were young, small and cute and helpless?

It was strange to think it, but how many full-grown people did he pass on the streets every day who were carrying around the same painful inner baggage as he himself, or worse?

Maybe, he thought, being blue-skinned and big-headed and an obvious alien wasn't as huge a nightmare as being an ordinary looking human whose suffering was never given a second glance because they looked like the rest of the crowd and were expected to be just like everyone else once they got past a certain age. Being what he was, at least no one expected him to be "normal." It wasn't much, but he could see how it could be a strange advantage. He at least had his singular appearance to blame for part of his lack of acceptance. What did normal looking adult humans who had been abused as children and were given no help in coping with it do? How did they manage to deal with abuse and rejection when they were no longer children who might at least be able to find some adults to fight for them and protect them, if they were lucky?

All of that flashed through his mind like lightning, quick and bright but not so swiftly forgotten. It was not, however, a matter for casual contemplation, so he set it aside to be examined more closely at a more appropriate time.

For now, he smiled at Roxanne. "Then again, maybe you're right." He turned his gaze to their chance dining companions, his smile now less tentative. "I did enjoy the conversation," he told them, as earnestly as he knew how. "And I really don't have any reason to think you were deliberately prying, other than my own suspicious nature. I'm sorry if I came off sounding like I was accusing you of being... manipulative. We've just had a little too much of dealing with that in our lives, lately."

No one pressed for greater details. Jeanne nodded. "It's the seamy underbelly of fame," she said with a sigh. "I had a little taste of that when I was a coffeehouse singer, just out of college, and believe me, I don't wish that on anyone!" She laughed. "I always wanted to have a t-shirt made that said _I've had enough of fame, now I'm after the fortune. _But I've heard that fortune has its downsides, too, so I never bothered."

"It's a double-edged sword, attention," Kate agreed. "Not enough and you feel abandoned, too much and you feel smothered. I imagine it's the same way with money. It's what you worry about when you don't have enough, and you just worry about it differently when you have too much."

Megamind puzzled over that for a moment, then got it. "Oh, you mean like so-called relatives and charities coming at you out of nowhere, asking for handouts and donations. I don't get too much of that because most people don't know I actually _have _money, but Wayne's told us it drives him crazy, sometimes." He blinked, then smiled crookedly. "I never thought of it before, but maybe _that_ explains a few things about _him."_

Roxanne tried not to laugh too openly at that, and failed miserably. "You're right, you're right, Wayne's always seemed a little crazy in his own ways, and I'm sure having money's always been a part of it — but don't you _ever _tell him I said that! He's trying to behave himself now, and I don't want to spoil that!"

With their meals finished and people now waiting to be seated, James suggested that it would be a good time to go pay their checks and leave, to open the space for other diners. As Jeanne collected her purse from the floor under her chair, she noticed that it was much lighter than it should've been. "Oh, my iPad!" she said, glancing first at the floor, then at the couple's table. "I almost forgot, I didn't take it back."

Megamind spotted it half-hidden by his discarded napkin, and picked it up. "Thanks for showing us your pictures," he said as he returned it. "I think that's a place we'll definitely want to check out before we leave."

"No problem, I'm glad you enjoyed the photos. I — oh, crap!" In trying to return the device to its place in her purse, she fumbled the slip of paper already in one hand; it of course floated away under the adjacent table, out of reach. Roxanne saw it land and bent to retrieve it.

She was about to hand it back to Jeanne when her boyfriend impulsively stopped her, plucking the check from her fingers. "No, let me take care of this," he insisted, winning himself puzzled looks from more than just Roxanne.

"You don't need to buy friends, hon," she told him softly, that opinion clearly affirmed by the expressions of the others.

Only a faint hint of lavender colored his cheeks and ears. "I'm not!" he insisted. "I — I just thought it would be a nice thing to do, especially since you keep telling me I've got more money than God and should find some ways to use it. I enjoyed the company and the conversation and all the recommendations and everything. Is there something wrong with wanting to return the kindness, somehow?" The big green eyes glanced back and forth between the five people looking at him, genuinely at a loss.

Now, Roxanne smiled, warmly. "No, there's nothing wrong with that," she assured him. "I guess you do know what you're doing, and I'm not going to argue with a well-meant act of generosity."

"It isn't necessary," James said, "but if that's what you really want... Well, all I can say is thank you."

"It's very kind of you," Jeanne agreed. "Are you sure you can afford it? I don't know how much superheroes get paid..."

"Nothing," Roxanne said with a chuckle of her own. "But he _does_ still have more money than God, from patents on his own inventions."

"Well, then can we at least leave the tip?" Kate suggested as a compromise, a beat before Rosemary could ask the same. No one argued with that, and so it was settled.

Paying the checks caused a minor sensation among some of the waiting crowd in the lobby, as Megamind was recognized by many of the visitors. They were generally polite and seemed mildly excited to see such a unique celebrity. One couple, however, started to mutter to each other, something that sounded distinctly unpleasant. They found themselves fixed with a steely glare from the hostess at the cash register, her look telling them to knock it off or be kicked out. Though the alien himself didn't notice the exchange — which took place while he was signing the credit slip — Roxanne did, and offered the hostess a grateful smile for shutting up the pair of potential troublemakers so effectively.

As they and the quartet from Milwaukee headed for the parking area behind the restaurant, it was plain that the group had as little use for the muttering idiots as Roxanne. "Narrow-minded gits," was Jeanne's succinct opinion, seconded all around, and that was the end of it.

They said goodbye and went their separate ways in the parking lot, though only after compliments were offered about the striking paint job on Roxanne's Corvette. It was also suggested that the younger couple should watch the sunset over Green Bay if they hadn't already had the chance, as the event was usually so lovely, it was common for people to come out just to take it in and applaud nature's exquisite art direction.

When they were on their way, Roxanne studied the thoughtful but happy expression on her beau's face. "So, I guess that wasn't such a horrible experience, meeting new people," she said, a bit impishly.

Megamind shook his head. "No, it wasn't. It's definitely different, interacting with people who know who you are, but who haven't known about you all their lives."

She agreed. "No expectations. It's like being among friends instead of family. Family are the people you get thrown together with without a choice; friends are the people you _choose_ to be with. This was just a lucky coincidence, meeting friendly folks like that. They could've just as easily been awful, but if you don't take any chances, you never make new friends, even if it's only for as long as the dinner lasts. You have to start somewhere."

"I know, I can see that now." His expression darkened a mite. "Did you really think I was trying to buy friends by offering to pay their bill?"

Roxanne considered it for a moment, then shook her head. "No. Wayne would've done that, but not you. I think you were just being impulsively generous, in a perfectly acceptable way. That's not a bad thing at all. It shows just how much you're starting to think about the happiness of other people, and how simple acts of friendship and kindness can mean so much. I'm proud of you, really — and I have to admit, I might've been shocked at first, but I'm also proud of you for relaxing and letting down your guard enough to actually tell them your real name. You're letting more than just the tiniest part of the world inside those walls you built up to protect your feelings, and that's a good thing. You still have to be circumspect, you can't just let anyone in or you _will _end up getting hurt again, but I think you showed very good judgment, this time. They were nice people, they were very open with us, and they didn't ask anything of us, not really, just the pleasure of our company."

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, the most she dared to do while he was driving. "I was expecting it might take the whole month for you to reach this point of relaxation, if you ever did," she admitted. "I'm glad it didn't. And just so you know, I'll have your back, whenever I can. If I see things going wrong between you and any people we meet, I'll let you know."

His whistling sigh was filled with relief. "Thanks, that'll help. Now, should we go see if we can find some turkeys, or go back to the house and enjoy the sunset?"

Roxanne groaned her exasperation over this new obsession of his. Happily, in the end, the certain and distinctly romantic prospects of watching the sunset easily won out over any potentially disappointing possibility of seeing mere turkeys.

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_To be continued…._


	9. The Interlude

_Author's Note: A very heartfelt thank you to all who've reviewed, and the many more who are reading this odd story as it progresses! I was beginning to feel as if there wasn't a whole lot of point to continuing during a low point yesterday, but the support of all the fantastic fish — er, remarkable readers gave my Muse a much needed kick in the butt — ah, boost to the spirit! Thanks to all! The T rating for this chapter is for the mushy stuff and mild suggestiveness. Believe me, you see worse every day in television commercials. :)

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IX

The Interlude

The remainder of the first week went much, much better than either Megamind or Roxanne had imagined it possibly could, especially in light of the three days that had preceded their departure. Minion called only twice, once with a question concerning the disposition of some of the things he'd set to finding proper places for in Roxanne's home office, the other a query as to whether or not Megamind would agree to allow Wayne inside the Invisible Car.

All the impatience and restlessness that they'd expected the reformed villain to experience after ten minutes of attempting to relax had instead cropped up in his old nemesis. It seemed that Wayne hadn't realized how much he craved the occasional taste of the very active lifestyle of a superhero, and he'd been so disappointed by the comparative peace that was reigning during his replacement's absence, he'd practically begged Minion to let him go along once in a while during a routine cruise through the city. The fish hadn't really planned to do any patrolling of his own unless criminal activity picked up or some new villain reared his or her ugly head; the ordinary police forces, ably assisted by the regular brainbot patrols, were handling things on that front quite well. Making additional patrols had seemed pointless to Minion, who was getting much more enjoyment out of his own holiday at home.

Megamind was admittedly a bit disappointed to discover that no would-be villains were attempting to test the waters while he was away, until Roxanne pointed out two very important things: first, that no one in Metro City other than Minion, Wayne, her boss, the police and fire chiefs, and — sad to say — Stewart Mitchell were aware that their protector was even out of town; and second, that Megamind's difficult but ultimately very decisive victory over not one but three powerful villains only two weeks ago very likely had any potential new major players thinking twice about whatever plans they might have in the works to challenge him. Reassured, especially by the latter thought, he gave Minion his permission to allow Wayne to go along on the occasional patrol, but only if Minion himself felt like doing it and wanted the company.

Meanwhile, the vacationing couple found themselves as occupied as they wished to be during that first week. Privately, Roxanne had been just as convinced as Megamind that the typically hyperactive alien wouldn't be able to last more than two or three days before going mad from boredom, but as it turned out, a shocking amount of those first seven days was spent in the most relaxing occupation of all: sleep. Long nights of sleep, late mornings abed, afternoon siestas, evening naps, early turn ins. The peace and quiet and fresh air coupled with the beautiful and comfortable surroundings of the Scott's summer house had that immediate, very therapeutic effect on both of them, allowing them to begin to let go of the most detrimental physical manifestation of the unrelenting tensions that had come so close to destroying their life together: exhaustion.

Indeed, the greatest physical activities they managed during that week were by and large not exceptionally strenuous. After seeing the pictures and hearing descriptions of the place, they visited Cave Point. The definitely off-the-beaten-path park was seemingly ordinary when viewed from the road that accessed it, but a very brief walk from the small parking lot across a narrow grassy picnic area and down a gentle slope brought them to the top of a high, rocky bluff edged with tall treed woodlands. From the top of the stony promontory, an exquisite view of the great lake was spread out before them, sparkling in the noontime sunlight. The place was every bit as beautiful as the photos they'd seen, though as with many natural sights, it was even more striking when viewed in person. They had come on a hot, calm winded day with the shoreline waters green and glassy. It was a gorgeous sight, and they immediately decided that they would return on a more tempestuous day if one came along, just to see if the place could indeed change its face as dramatically as the photos had indicated.

Megamind had been much more daring in his explorations of the point than Roxanne, who, ever the reporter, preferred to stand back and record his adventures. He had been willing to actually scale up and down some of the steep but liberally water-pocked walls of stone. None of the other human visitors dared to even attempt this, save in those areas where the bluffs had been worn by wind and waves into large natural steps that made access to the rippled stone flats possible, the huge rocks able to be climbed even when wet, with a bit of caution. Megamind of course had no Spiderman-like ability in this regard, no superpower above and beyond immense curiosity, his natural agility, and a lot of practice when it came to climbing all manner of surfaces in his efforts to escape prison or avoid being caught by either Metro Man or the backlash of some of his more spectacular inventive failures.

His boldness was not without slight mishap; he lost his footing while attempting a closer inspection of the largest cave pocket and wound up in the fortunately calm waters below. In his fall, he barely missed landing atop a few swimmers who had entered the small cove in a much less risky fashion, approaching from the flats and the outer waters. Fortunately, the alien was an excellent swimmer — only to be expected from a person whose lifelong guardian was a fish — and he simply viewed the unexpected turn of events as another way to get that closer look he'd wanted.

Roxanne had been watching and recording the whole thing from a more secure vantage on a portion of the nearby bluffs. When the heart-stopping moment of his accidental plunge ended with Megamind surfacing a few seconds later, unharmed, unfazed, and as at home in the water as a nimble blue otter — thank God that she'd been able to talk him into wearing shorts today so that she wouldn't get hot looking at him in his customary black jeans — she smiled and laughed with him as she continued to record the event, using both the still and video capabilities of her camera. He interrupted his explorations long enough to remove his shoes and toss them onto the nearest flat-topped expanse of rock, eventually peeling off his soaked shirt and sending it the same way. He spent a good hour in the water, checking out the nooks and crannies of the water-carved caves and talking to some of the other swimmers who were curious about his explorations.

Up on the bluff, Roxanne had settled down on a worn boulder, not only to watch and take pictures, but to listen to a sound she had so seldom heard, but had come to treasure: Megamind laughing, not evilly, not dramatically, not in a forced manner or in any way but naturally, without the self-imposed histrionics of Megamind the supervillain or the hesitance of Megamind the abused child living in an adult's body, afraid of laughter as a weapon used by bullies to inflict pain on their victims. The sound echoed off the walls of the cove mingled with the voices and the laughter of the other swimmers, and it was to her ears the most beautiful music in the world. When he finally climbed back up to the top of the bluff, dripping wet but in the best mood she'd seen in too many months, Roxanne happily listened to him tell her of his unplanned adventure while they headed back to the car. It came as no surprise to her when he dozed off soon after they were back on the road, carefully wrapped in an emergency blanket so as not to get her passenger's seat as soaked as he was.

On other days, they made driving explorations of the inner roads between the waters of Green Bay on the northwest and Lake Michigan on the southeast, in search of the promised but elusive wild turkeys. They saw a good deal of the quiet interior of the peninsula, which was largely filled with farms and orchards between clumps and strips of native woodland. They were sadly disappointed, however, in their attempts to spot any turkeys, though they did catch sight of many smaller, more colorful songbirds. Twice, they spied pairs of cranes feeding at the edges of ponds and creeks, and occasionally, they caught sight of huge blue herons or a group of pelicans winging through the skies.

Once, they witnessed — almost _too_ closely — seven white-tailed deer darting across the road, a narrow secondary street that cut through a long stretch of woods. The deer appeared so abruptly, leaping out of the thick underbrush mere feet away from the front of the car, that Roxanne, who was driving, had to slam on the brakes lest she hit one. They ran so swiftly, they disappeared into the brushy woodland before she could grab her camera from behind the seats, but not before Megamind nearly shrieked at the shock of the sudden stop (which made him glad for once that he was wearing his seat belt), and then gasped in wonder at his first sight of such large and graceful wild creatures so unexpectedly near.

The slowest of them — a fawn still young enough to be showing its spots — paused at the edge of the road before following the others. It simply stood there, looking back at the stopped car, its large dark eyes unblinking as it watched the huge green alien eyes that were staring back. Then the moment passed, and it darted away to join the rest of its herd. Roxanne wished that she could've captured that unusual close encounter on film, but there were some things that simply had to be enjoyed as they were witnessed and remembered, or what made the moment so magical would be lost.

After the swimming adventure at Cave Point, the greatest exertion either of them made during that first week was Megamind's scheduled lesson in windsurfing, which had been delayed two days because of the weather. Though she went along, Roxanne was perfectly happy to watch from the comfort of a shaded lounge chair on the shore, a cool drink and her camera equipment at hand. Though he was somewhat clumsy at first — perfectly normal, given that this was a wholly new combination of activities for the slender alien — Megamind picked up the basics very quickly, thanks to his keen powers of observation, his understanding of the physics of motion, his naturally heightened agility, and the physical demands of his years as both a supervillain battling a powerful superhero and a not-quite-so-super hero tackling that same job of attack and evade, merely with a different objective.

At the end of the three hour lesson, his instructor had declared that what Megamind now required was his own proper equipment, the right conditions, and a place to practice, since the last was all he would need to gain what the trainer expected to be a high level of proficiency. Though the ex-villain positively glowed from the praise, he admitted in the end that he was nowhere near as good as he hoped to be, since this was something he wanted to share with Minion, who was literally at home in the water and much faster and agile in that environment than any human suspected. He wanted to be as certain as possible that he learned how to handle himself in any conditions so that he wouldn't risk causing his lifelong friend accidental harm — or himself. The very thought of poor Minion panicking because his boss had managed to knock himself out in deep water with some badly executed move was a powerful motivator for him to at least attempt to achieve perfection. The instructor saw his point, and so agreed to schedule additional lessons over the following two weeks. With that concluded, the couple returned to the house, where Megamind washed up, then promptly collapsed for a three hour nap. Roxanne hadn't been all that far behind him.

"This is ridiculous," the blue hero declared around a huge yawn after they'd both wakened from that particular afternoon siesta. For the sake of novelty, they used the various beds and couches throughout the place during their daytime snoozes (or, on more energetic occasions, their daytime lovemaking that inevitably ended with snoozing). Today, they'd opted for one of the bedrooms on the highest level, a room with sloping ceilings, a cozy blue and white nautical theme, and windows that gave one a sort of crow's nest view of the grounds and the lake. After showering off properly from the lesson, Megamind had slipped into a robe so as not to leave drips of water missed by the towel all over the floor between bathroom and bedroom, sat down on the bed for a moment before putting on the change of clothes he'd brought up, and zonked out before that moment had passed. He wasn't even sure when Roxanne had joined him, he'd been so out of it. It was vaguely embarrassing, even though his body clearly wanted the rest. "I'll bet Wayne never passed out like this after a fight, much less after a simple workout!"

"Wayne's a tank," Roxanne pointed out as she debated whether or not she was ready to open her eyes. She decided to snuggle against her boyfriend instead. "You can pound on him for a week and the worst he'll get is dirty. Solid, but not very imaginative. I'd much rather have a nimble dancer who gets tuckered out once in a while than a big lead-footed lug who doesn't notice when other people can't keep up after he's crushed their toes."

He was only vaguely mollified by her implied compliment. "But I wasn't even half this tired after spending nine solid hours fighting with the Terror Trio!" he complained.

"Yes, you were," she rebutted, fighting to keep both her first words from turning into even bigger yawns than Megamind's. "You just wouldn't let yourself give in to it, like I wouldn't from all those long days and nights at the station, trying to pack more than a year's worth of work into a few months. And don't forget, you're probably still recovering a bit from nearly getting cooked by Hyperthermia."

She stretched, wishing she had a back as limber as her beau's. When he stretched himself after sleep or hard work or hours spent hunched in the same position, it was like watching a cat lithely arching its back after a long nap. With her, it felt more like having her spine cracked at odd angles by a none-too-skilled chiropractor using a stuttering jackhammer to do the job.

She yawned again, wondering if she showed quite as many of her teeth as he did when her jaw was opened to the max, then sighed. "Let's face it, we've both been running on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine and a lot of bad emotions since April, especially during the last month. If we'd tried to keep up that pace, pretending we could just keep going without ever slowing down, we would've both collapsed and wound up in a nursing home, not on vacation. We needed this break, and our bodies obviously need the rest. And this is turning out to be a great place to get it." Smiling, she slipped one hand inside the front of his robe, then pulled it open enough so that she could settle her cheek against his bare skin.

He enjoyed the feel of her hair as much as she enjoyed the softness of his skin, so he didn't object. He slid his arms around her shoulders, holding her closer. "I'm not arguing with that," he admitted, nuzzling his nose in the warm, sleep-mussed hair at the top of her head. "It just feels so strange. I don't think I've ever had this much time to relax and do nothing. Even when I was in prison, I was always working on the next plan, the next escape. And the times when things went so wrong I had to either go into hiding to heal or wound up in the prison hospital, there was nothing relaxing about it. I guess I've just never been able to let go like this, not since I was very young and didn't realize how difficult real life was going to be."

The wistfulness in his voice caused Roxanne to turn slightly so that she could lift her head and kiss him, softly but deeply. "Then this is long overdue," she said quietly when their lips finally parted. "Maybe if someone had understood all the stress just being an alien in a human world could be when you were young, you wouldn't've needed to rebel so badly to try to feel better about yourself."

"Maybe not. All water under the bridge, I guess. Are you sure this is normal, though, spending so much time sleeping when you're on vacation?"

Her smile turned impish as she coquettishly batted her eyelashes. "Well, we haven't exactly been spending _all _our time sleeping, lover boy. Aside from our little sightseeing jaunts, you had your first lesson in windsurfing, and I've enjoyed a few lessons of my own about just how... inventive you can be outside a lab or workshop."

His laugh had a delicious thread of his old affected evil in it. "Temptress. And to think that not so long ago, I was convinced you found the very sight of me too repulsive for words!"

"Oh, _never_ repulsive," she assured him with a sultry purr. "Irritating, maybe, but what girl wouldn't get a little put out when the only way a handsome guy ever spends time with her begins with knockout gas and a bag over her head?"

"So you didn't mind the being tied up part?"

"I didn't say that — though compared to the gas and the bag, the ropes were never that irritating. I think nobody ever taught the two of you the meaning of the word 'tight' — and what the heck kind of ropes did you use, anyway? Silk? I never even got so much as an abrasion burn off of 'em!"

"Ah..." The violet flare of a mild blush colored both his cheeks and his ears. "Well, yes, to be perfectly honest."

Startled, she pushed herself up onto one elbow to look at him more directly. "Yes? Do you mean those ropes really _were _silk? And you didn't tie them tightly on purpose?"

The blush deepened. "Yes, to both questions. I promised I'd never hurt you the first time we met, Roxanne, and even if you didn't consciously remember it, I did! That's why we always used the gas to knock you out and never gagged you or used manacles or anything that could do damage if you struggled to free yourself. You don't know how many different kinds of rope I went through until I found one that would be strong enough to make you believe you were being _very _securely restrained — and sometimes, you really had to be, to keep you from getting hurt in other ways — but also soft enough to prevent injury from the ropes themselves. I think the company that finally had the right stuff sold things to people who..." His entire face flushed such a brilliant purple-red, Roxanne was sure his head was actually glowing. "...who, you know, were into... er... ah... well, you know — into b-bondage games."

The last two words came out in such a pitifully abashed squeak, Roxanne couldn't stop from giggling. The very image of the easily embarrassed and naive Megamind checking out the kinds of catalogues and websites that would have such things for sale was hilarious, to say the least. Since the chagrined alien couldn't blush any more deeply than he already was — not without having blood begin to leak from his baby-fine pores — his expression turned to one of absolute mortification. "I know, I know," he groaned. "I was the worst and lamest excuse for a villain ever, but I just _couldn't_ hurt you!"

The brunette's giggle became a full laugh, but not a cruel one. When she could feel him begin to flinch in response, she decided not to share with him her mental images, of him, purple-faced and with shocked eyes as wide as dinner plates, staring in horror and confusion at pictures of the other vastly more bizarre fetish-type wares certainly available from such vendors. "Oh, I know, sweetie, really!" she gasped out when she was able to rein in her mirth. "You tried _so_ hard to be evil, and the most you ever managed to pull off was being... well, annoyingly bad! But I'm not making fun of you, I swear!" she hurried to add when she saw the first flickers of hurt begin to tug at his features. "I'm _glad _you weren't as evil as you tried to be, 'cause I don't think I could've fallen in love with someone who truly _was_ rotten to the core. You've got a heart of gold, and it's been a pleasure helping you to find it again."

She leaned forward to kiss him once more, this time with tenderness and desire rather than sympathy. She felt him first relax a tiny bit, then melt as he accepted and returned her attentions. Her eyes sparkled when she drew back to catch a breath. "And if you ever feel the need to kidnap me again for old time's sake, you can skip the gas and the bag and the ropes. I'll come along willingly, wherever you want to go."

Eyes closed and smiling in his usual blissful reaction to such pleasant demonstrations of his lady's affections, the embarrassed flush faded from Megamind's face, leaving behind only a slightly deeper than usual trace of lavender. "Anywhere?" he echoed, cracking open one eye to watch her reaction. "Willingly?"

"Anywhere," Roxanne promised earnestly, her eyes still twinkling and her love for him clear. "Willingly."

For a moment, he did not move, did not speak; only his ever-active mind was at work, placing this brief, beautiful instant and her words into his memory, where it filled a precise space in a still unfinished puzzle that was gradually nearing completion. Then, smiling more brightly, he drew her to him in another deep kiss, and for a while, they quite willingly moved along together, exploring anew the ecstasies of a union that began with the flesh, but ended in realms of joy far beyond the mundane.

Vacations and free time, he decided some time later, when the song of Morpheus was seducing the sated lovers back into another brief nap, were definitely _not _overrated.

_

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To be continued..._


	10. The Fog

_Author's Note: This chapter started off as a bit of quiet introspection leading to another day of various discoveries, and got out of hand (dang Muse!). So what was originally supposed to be one chapter about a foggy, rainy day has now become at least three. Whoops! Chapter Eleven will be coming very soon, as it was nearly completed when I decided to split things into several chapters rather than a single immense one. __And I promise, by the end of this day (which should be in Chapter Twelve), there WILL be turkeys! _

_Thanks to all those who have reviewed; feedback is, as always, the very air an author breathes! :)  
_

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X

The Fog

Early in the second week, Megamind woke one morning, much earlier than he had been of late, for no apparent reason. There had been no plans made for the day, nor had any sound or movement interrupted his sleep. He simply woke up, and found that for the moment, he was no longer tired. A clock on the mantle of the fireplace in the master bedroom declared the hour as five a.m. — _much _earlier than his typical waking hour, when he was on any sort of an even vaguely normal schedule. There was no hint of light yet in the skies outside, though he knew it would not be too long before the coming dawn would begin to drive away the darkness.

Roxanne was still very soundly asleep; he watched her for a few minutes, reveling in the happiness that she brought to his life, noting that the lines of stress and exhaustion that had marred the perfection of her face were now all but gone. It pleased him to know that he had played a part in her recovery, just as she had in his, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her now, simply because he was no longer sleepy. Moving very carefully and quietly, he slipped out of bed, gathered up the clothes he'd taken off the night before, and soundlessly left the room, though not before leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. She smiled, mumbled something utterly incomprehensible, then burrowed more deeply under the covers before settling back to her peaceful dreams. As he tiptoed out, he took great care to close the door behind him without even the smallest thump or click.

Being August, the early morning was still warm, though not hot. Well rested but strangely restless, he dressed in the slightly rumpled black jeans and blue shirt, figuring that a shower and clean clothes could wait until a more reasonable hour, when he wouldn't risk disturbing Roxanne. He had no idea where he'd left his socks and the black leather athletic shoes he'd picked up on that last shopping trip with Minion and Roxanne; for the moment, it didn't matter. Barefoot, he moved away from the bedroom, to seek some quiet thing to occupy his strangely unsettled mind.

After a few minutes of wandering the house, poking his nose into different rooms but finding nothing in any to hold his interest, he picked up an apple from their dwindling supplies in the kitchen and wandered outside, through the doors on the lowest level that connected the room with the indoor pool to a stone deck and the long, curving path that ran from the pier to the garage at the top of the hillside.

The world outside was gray, in more ways than one. The growing predawn dusk cast a gray light over what could be seen in the gray fog that had rolled in off the waters of the bay and was damply settled about the house and landscape. It wasn't so thick that one could see no more than a few steps away, yet it obscured the outer waters and made the rest of the world seem as if it was slightly out of focus, blurred and softened with silver mist. Water dripped from eaves and branches, made small, crystal pearls on the lines of spider webs, fell in tiny droplets from leaves and flower petals, but did so almost soundlessly. Louder was the gentle, never-ending lap of the water brushing the shore, the waves so small they could only be called ripples; louder still were the mournful cries of gulls, flying somewhere in the more distant parts of the fog, invisible in the cloudy gray mists.

Megamind was quite familiar with fog; the Lair was all but surrounded by water, given that it was situated well out on the narrow spit of land that formed a part of Metro City's old harbor and industrial areas. Fog rolled in often enough, especially in the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen to burn away the mists. But in the urban environs of the city, there were always noises and smells, often loud and frequently unpleasant, almost never anything remotely akin to quiet. Fog in the city was a strange and creepy thing filled with looming shadows and occasional strange flashes of light from moving vehicles. As a villain, he had enjoyed those qualities, and even as a hero, he found the mystery of a thick urban fog intriguing.

But there was something odd about this near-silent gray mist. It held its own aura of mystery, but the strange lack of artificial light and mechanical noises was almost...frightening to him. It was as if something had crept in during the night, some creature capable of spinning webs larger than any spider imaginable, and had wrapped the world in an impossible, immense gray cocoon that erased anything manmade from existence.

To someone with Megamind's inventive gifts, it was a disturbing thought. That he was also supposedly a hero who shouldn't be bothered by such things as the weather made it even more unsettling.

Then, somewhere out in the mists, the unnatural sound of a fishing boat's horn sounded, a long, low moan that though startling was clearly not made by anything living. The muffled, distant chugging of its engines followed. The noises soon faded, but they left behind a peculiar reassurance. This world of nature was still very new and very... well, _alien_ to Megamind, and though he was finding it much less unpleasant than he had feared, he was still treading on unfamiliar turf. He had been so enveloped in the world of machines and artifacts and steel buildings and artificially made everything for so very long, he sometimes wondered if there was anything in him that could properly be called "natural," at least on this planet.

When he was with Roxanne, he had no doubts. But alone... He still wondered. He was finding ways to be an accepted part of this world now, but what did _he _want the most out of his life in it?

Sighing like the water lapping against the shore, the unsettled alien came to a pile of weather beaten stone slabs near the water's edge beside the pier, the slabs acting as a breakwater during stormy weather to help minimize beach erosion. He sat down, not caring that the stone was damp, and for a while, watched the mesmerizing ripples of the water. Though he was outwardly still, his mind was anything but. Being exhausted, he was finding, affected much more than just a person's body.

He couldn't deny that he liked being the defender of Metro City, that he enjoyed finding new and unexplored ways to help not only the city and its people, but those in other places who benefited from his inventions and discoveries. He liked being welcomed rather than reviled, and he certainly preferred a life of real freedom to being a prisoner, either incarcerated by the walls of a penitentiary or restricted by the need to hide from the law. More than all of that, he loved Roxanne and the fact that he _could, _that she had not merely accepted him but _wanted_ to be with him, in spite of all that had happened before. This trip had definitely been a wonderful idea, and yet here he was, awake at an ungodly hour, unsettled.

Why?

Idly, he rolled the unbitten apple between his fingers. Maybe he'd just finally gotten all the sleep he needed and was beginning to feel the return of restlessness, the itch to get back to the active life in the city. But if he were to be honest with himself, he knew that wasn't so, not entirely. It was possible that he'd had enough physical rest, yes, but he wasn't in any hurry to return to the city, not yet. Even though he'd only been its protector for two years, he was beginning to understand why Wayne had gotten tired of it. The last few months had been the toughest he'd ever known, both physically and mentally. He needed this break for more than just bodily healing, and he was going to make the most of it, not rush back too soon and undo all the good that it was doing him, and Roxanne.

Yet he had to wonder: Until he'd decided to fake his own death, had Wayne ever admitted to this kind of a need, acknowledged that though his body was invulnerable, his heart and soul and mind were not? Had he ever tried to take a decent amount of time to recover his inner strength, or had he pushed aside that need, making at best token efforts to assuage it until it nearly broke him? From their history together, Megamind was fairly certain he hadn't, not enough to prevent him from reaching the state of burnout that had ended his heroic career.

And yet Wayne must have reached some sort of understanding about what had been happening to him, enough to be making such efforts now to see to it that his more vulnerable replacement didn't meet with that same fate. He might not have done it if Minion hadn't approached him first, looking for answers to end the ongoing domestic battles in the Lair, but once he'd become involved, Wayne had given it his all.

It was a sobering and humbling thought. And in the fog of this gray morning dusk, Megamind wasn't too proud to admit it. He had been learning new things about the very concept of friendship and its many forms all week, and he had begun to see how building a bridge of camaraderie between himself and his once hated rival might indeed be possible. It wasn't going to occur overnight, but the possibility was definitely there.

As were other possibilities. Another puzzle that he'd been slowly assembling in his thoughts wasn't yet a clear picture, but he was beginning to see certain generalities of the form it was taking. And this, too, couldn't be rushed; it was much too important to be simply slapped together, following hasty guesses, only to find too late that those guesses had been so badly off the mark, the structure could not hold together, would crumble and fail like so many inventions he had hurried to complete without properly considering all aspects of the basic design. This he wanted to be perfect; it _had _to be perfect, even if the components and materials with which he was working were completely new to him.

Some other part of his brain took note of those particular thoughts and it brought a lopsided smile to his lips. Well, _that _was an odd way of looking at things, though no odder than all the self-examination he'd been engaging in of late. No doubt some of it was Roxanne's influence; she was an investigator by profession and by habit, and the knack of figuring out what made people tick was a part of her, in many ways.

It wasn't always a _comfortable _part of her, since he was so often the one being investigated, but he also had to admit that while the process was frequently an uneasy, even painful, one, it just as frequently led to positive results. In the past two years of his involvement with Roxanne and her enquiring mind, he had learned more about himself than he'd thought possible. He'd always considered himself quite knowledgeable about the most fascinating subject in the universe — himself — but the truth was, he hadn't been as well informed as he'd liked to believe. Roxanne challenged him on so many levels, this included, and he had never easily backed away from a challenge.

Still, it was strange. He'd always considered himself a thinking person, of course; it came with having a brain and intelligence far above the norm. But thoughtful, in a philosophical, psychological way? Not really. There was no reason he couldn't be; he just hadn't been. Life was easier that way.

But by her mere presence in his life, Roxanne had made him want to be something more than a shallow egotist. She made him want to... well, grow up, not to let go of his joy in life and his sense of wonder, but to let go of his own selfishly bratty behavior that had walked all over others without so much as a backward glance. She made him want to be a better person, the best person he could be. It wasn't always easy, but then, things worth having seldom were. He wanted Roxanne to be proud of him, to be all the good things she saw in him that he sometimes had trouble seeing himself. And he wanted... something more. He still wasn't quite sure what that something was, but he was coming closer to finding out. The rest that was helping his body to heal from the excessive stress was slowly clearing his mind as well, though not as quickly as he would've liked.

Maybe that was what was making him feel restless. Maybe in slowing down to rest and recover and heal, the part of him that was impatient to become something more than he had been was feeling restrained, told to walk when it wanted to run as fast as it could.

Or maybe he'd just gotten out of bed too early and was feeling restless for Roxanne to wake up and another day to begin. Maybe the fog was clogging his head, filling his brain with the remains of old literary imagery and metaphors, examining a thing to look for hidden meanings rather than accepting it at face value.

What was that line he vaguely remembered from his reading of every book in the prison library? _He who breaks a thing to discover what it is has left the path of wisdom. _He'd found that out in some of his youthful attempts at reverse engineering. There were things you just didn't take apart unless you could be sure that you'd be able to put it back together again, or could be certain that the one examination would provide sufficient understanding to make a new one from scratch. There was another line that was often just as appropriate: _Let it be._ The Beatles weren't his favorite songwriters in the world, but there was definitely something to be said for that simple bit of wisdom. Stop worrying, stop over thinking, stop picking things to death. Just let them be what they are.

Maybe all he really needed for now was something creative to pass the time. Otherwise he might find himself wanting to reverse engineer his own brain, to find out every little scientific bit of what made _him _tick. Definitely _not _good.

The notion of heading back to the house and going through his stuff to see what he'd brought with him along those lines was interrupted by a soft sound from his right. For a moment, he expected that enough time had passed for Roxanne to have awakened and come looking for him, but no more than a few minutes had elapsed, by the still dusky light in the sky. He glanced in the direction of the sound and saw not his girlfriend, but what looked to be a dog, coming toward him along the shoreline, its form softened by the fog.

This was nothing new. Although the stretch of shore here was the Scotts' private property, it was common for the landowners to allow people to walk through, so long as they damaged nothing and cleaned up after the pets they might bring with them. This being the first time Megamind had been awake at such an early hour, he didn't know if one of the neighbors habitually took their dog for a walk at this time of day. He glanced farther along the shore, beyond the approaching dog, but saw no one following. No surprise, actually; for all he knew, the thing was a stray, and even in the most urban areas, some people let their dogs out to do their business alone, unattended. In more rural areas, he supposed it was common.

His eyes shifted back to the dog, which was now quite close; it had slowed its pace as it neared the strange person, head and sharp ears cocked inquisitively. There was a part of Megamind that had always longed for a pet — not an intelligent ichthyoid guardian like Minion, nor the brainbots he'd created with his own hands, but a living, breathing, furry little friend that was bright enough to offer companionship, but not in the same way as an intelligent person. He didn't know why, but he knew it was something he'd craved for a long time, to the point that he'd made it a long-running and often deliberately annoying joke with the Warden. He smiled in a friendly way as the daring little dog came a bit closer, extending its furry red pointed snout to delicately sniff at the blue toes dangling near the water—

—and then the alien caught sight of the extreme bushy red tail behind the not exactly dog-like body, and realized that this wasn't a dog, but a fox. The creature was dominantly rust red in color, though its belly, chin, and throat were white, while its sharp-tipped ears and forelegs were dark. Megamind had seen pictures of foxes, but had never _seen_ one, and certainly never so closely. He had the impression that this was a juvenile, not yet fully grown, perhaps because the thing seemed so unafraid of him. Of course, he knew nothing about the habits of foxes, whether or not they were generally unafraid of humans — but then again, he wasn't human, so the curiosity might simply be based on a mutual unfamiliarity.

As the creature sniffed at his bare toes, Megamind slowly extended one hand in its direction, not reaching for it, but simply presenting its back for the curious critter to investigate. To his surprise, it didn't back off or run away, but merely sniffed his hand as well. Its golden brown eyes were very similar in color to Minion's, but though they were bright and observant, they lacked the keen intelligence of his guardian's. Well, it was only an animal, after all, and a wild one at that. Still, the alien was captivated, since his previous experience with wild critters was that they would run off as soon as anything even vaguely human came near them — with the exception of the overfed pigeons and squirrels in the city parks. They could be downright obnoxious in their belief that any bipedal humanoid equalled a free lunch. They even hit on Minion.

That reminded Megamind of the apple he was still holding in his other hand. It was possible that the fox was hungry and had been willing to come close to him after smelling the presence of food, but if that were the case he would've expected it to be studying the apple, not him. It genuinely appeared curious about him, no doubt because it had never seen or smelled anything quite like him.

Encouraged by this inquisitiveness, he slowly lifted his extended hand, and was delighted when the fox neither backed off nor exhibited displeasure. Moving very carefully, he touched the white fur along the creature's jaw, stroking it lightly with just the tips of his fingers. Though damp from the morning mists, it was soft and silky, not in the same way as Roxanne's hair, but the feel of it was pleasant.

It was difficult for him to imagine being naturally covered with fur; he didn't even have as much hair as an average human, male or female, given that what little hair he had was limited to his face and a negligible bit in his nether regions. To be almost completely encased in fur, every moment of every day...! That was a concept he couldn't quite wrap even his extensive intellect around. He'd tried to get some input that way by building Minion's gorilla-like body, but it was just a robot with limited sensory capabilities, and his fishy friend didn't experience the feelings of being within its skin in the same way he would had that skin been of flesh and blood and real nerves.

The young fox didn't seem disturbed by his touch, and he wondered at that, too, though not very deeply. It was better than getting gnawed on by his own brainbots, though this little critter didn't have their odd and unique personalities. After it had allowed his attention for maybe a minute, its eyes shifted to his other hand, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"I figured it'd come down to this," he said, keeping his voice low but not able to entirely keep the chuckle from it. "Well, I guess it's not too much to ask. Here you go." He held out the apple.

The fox extended its muzzle to sniff the offering. It opened its mouth to take it, then paused to lick the blue fingers before delicately taking the fruit in its teeth. Hesitating only a moment more, it then trotted back the way it had come. Before it disappeared into the fog, it stopped, glanced back, then seemed to nod its head in thanks before continuing on into the mists.

Megamind watched where it had vanished, then stood up and, smiling crookedly, rubbed his hand on the leg of his jeans. "Note to self: _never _incorporate spit feature into brainbots." With that and a small, amused shake of the head, he walked back up the stone path.

As the sun had yet to rise — as near as he could tell with the fog — Megamind opted not to return immediately to the house and instead continued on up the path to where it joined the driveway outside the garage. Since their arrival, they had been parking the Corvette on the drive near the front door, as they'd often returned from their activities ready to kick back (and usually nap). They hadn't yet investigated the garage, which was big enough to hold at least three cars and assorted lawn maintenance equipment. The alien doubted that there was much of the latter inside, since the gardener who came to mow the lawn and tend the landscape provided his own mower and other implements. He was mildly curious as to what the Scotts had done with such a large garage, so he decided to have a look inside.

The side door was supposedly locked, but it was poorly seated in its frame, so it took little effort for the former criminal — who had been getting into locked, abandoned buildings to use them as lairs and hideouts since he was thirteen — to open it without doing further damage, since he didn't feel like going back into the house to look for a key.

As expected, the garage was largely empty, mostly filled with the smell of dust and old motor oil and the general scents one expected of such a place. Along one side wall, there was a workbench with an assortment of toolboxes, tools, nails, bolts, screws, and a variety of all the things that had very likely been used by the remodelers the year before. He doubted that the Scotts themselves had ever used more than perhaps a hammer or a screwdriver from this surprisingly well-equipped workbench, but someone had doubtless felt it essential to the appearance of a proper garage. The wealthy couple had always been concerned about appearances, and this was likely just another byproduct of that obsession.

The most interesting thing, however, was an old motorcycle that had clearly been in some kind of an accident and was no longer in drivable condition. A pity, too. The thing was a classic Harley, of an early 1940s vintage. The ex-villain smiled wickedly as he recognized the engine model; he wondered if whoever owned it had been aware that it was known as a Knucklehead. He was certain that Wayne had been its last rider, if not its owner; the traditional single seat had been replaced with a larger two passenger seat, no doubt to accommodate his bulk, and the paint job — which, like much of the bike, was in wretched condition, one side clearly having been scraped along the pavement at considerable speed — was done in his trademark white and gold. The handgrip with the throttle had been mangled, but not from impact; he could see the imprints of Wayne's death grip in the crushed metal.

He had no idea when this poor machine had been totaled, but he suspected it hadn't been very recently. Perhaps when Wayne had been a teenager, or maybe during his college years, certainly no later. The only thing that had spared it from being buried in dust and cobwebs was a tarp that now lay beside it, probably pulled off by accident when the remodelers had been coming and going. It really was a shame that it had been so dreadfully neglected, Megamind thought as he ran his hand over the badly scraped and dented fuel tank. It had probably been kept because it _was _a classic, and someone had kept promising to get it rebuilt, someday.

He shook his head. What a waste! It wasn't beyond repair, though getting it in working condition again would likely take ordinary mechanics weeks, if not months. But in his not so humble estimation, Megamind was no ordinary mechanic — and this was just the kind of little diversion he'd been looking for, something to engage his inventive creativity for a little while.

Humming cheerfully, he went looking for a few extra work lights and something he could turn into a blowtorch.

* * *

When Roxanne rolled over and found that she was alone in bed, she wondered what time it was. There was light coming through the windows, but it wasn't bright sunlight, so she suspected the hour was early and Megamind had gone off to use the bathroom. When some minutes passed and he didn't return, nor could she hear any sound of movement, she craned her neck for a look at the clock on the mantle. It read 10:30.

10:30?

The reporter sat up so suddenly, her head spun for a moment, not caring for the abrupt shift in attitude. She took a couple of moments to let her head settle, then got up to crack the blinds enough to peer outside. It was daytime, all right, but a gray, drippy, rainy day. There was no trace of the fog that had come before the dawn, but the sun was well hidden behind the thick clouds that brought the rain. Well, it was to be expected; even the best vacations had their occasional rainy days, which had their own benefits. Sleeping late was one of them, as the lack of bright sun made the world feel more drowsy, which explained her late rising.

What it didn't explain was why Megamind wasn't also still out like a light. Of course, he might've gotten up ten minutes before she had; there was really no way to tell. But she didn't catch any scents of cooking from the kitchen, not even the aroma of coffee. Curious now, she ran one hand through her hair as she climbed out of bed, grabbed her silky robe, and shrugged into it as she went looking for her missing beau.

She saw no trace of him in any of the expected rooms. Puzzled, she was about to head up to the secondary bedrooms to see if he might've relocated during the night because of her snoring or something — she didn't _think _she was a snorer, and he'd never complained about it if she was, though there was a first time for everything — when she heard the sound of an engine rumbling. It didn't quite sound like the Corvette, so she went to investigate.

Nope, not the 'Vette; it was still parked where they'd left it after returning from supper the evening before. The growling sound had stopped, anyway, though now she heard banging noises, the clang of metal against...something hard, but not exactly metal. It wasn't annoyingly loud, but it was enough to get her attention and give her a direction to follow: the garage. Wondering what Megamind was up to out there — and having a sudden horrible vision of her car's engine up on blocks, undergoing some weird reinvention — she found the nearest pair of shoes and an umbrella and went to see what was up.

It wasn't raining heavily when Roxanne scooted out the side door of the house, but since she was wearing nothing other than her light robe and summer nightgown, she wasn't inclined to spend much time getting wet. As she hurried across the rain-damp drive, the banging sounds stopped and instead, she heard music. It wasn't overly loud and certainly wasn't being played by any sophisticated sound system, but the fact that it was classic rock told her she'd accurately tracked down her missing lover. The main vehicle doors were closed but the side entrance was propped open, as were the windows beside it, showing her the way. There was a scent of engine exhaust on the air near the door and windows, but not overly heavy, as it would have been had the thing had been running for a long time — which was good, Roxanne decided, or she'd be worrying that the noises had stopped because her boyfriend had passed out from lack of oxygen. Still, her last few steps came close to a run, just in case.

The inside of the garage was brightly lit, with a number of repositionable work lamps clamped to the rafters and other convenient places. The pool of light they created was focused on a largely disassembled motorcycle, all its disconnected pieces spread out on tarps in neat rows and small piles, like a three-dimensional blueprint laid across the floor. The engine, while removed from the battered frame, appeared to be intact, and had been set up on jury-rigged "blocks" fashioned from metal sawhorses and a few strategically placed chunks of studding left over from the previous year's renovations.

Megamind himself was perched atop a folding stool beside the workbench, wearing protective goggles as he examined one of the mangled fenders that he'd been restoring to its proper shape. On one end of the bench, an old radio had been propped up, with some gadget attached to its single antenna. The music coming from it was far from the best quality, as it could only be as good as the radio's speakers, but it was the kind of rock that Roxanne had come to call her beau's "happy music," the upbeat songs that had lots of positive energy. It suited him when he was in a creative mood, especially when that creativity was not being bent toward causing mischief, mayhem, and mass destruction.

"I didn't think they had that kind of radio station up here," Roxanne said as she stepped in out of the rain, surprise taking momentary precedence over politeness.

"Hm?" Megamind looked up at the sound of her voice, pulled out of his distraction. He blinked as he replayed her remark, then smiled. "Oh, they don't," he confirmed, "not on the usual broadcast stations, anyway. That's coming off a link I set up to the satellite radio in the house. No big trick. What are you doing up so early? I didn't wake you, did I?"

She shook her head and lowered the umbrella as she carefully stepped around the bits of dissected motorcycle to join him. "No, I got up on my own — and I don't know what your idea of 'early' is, sweetie. It's got to be a quarter to eleven by now."

"Really?" He lifted the goggles from his eyes as he consulted his wristwatch — not a holowatch, but a comparatively ordinary one he'd picked up at a shop in town so he wouldn't be tempted to carry around the disguise generator while they were here. It was a happy coincidence that things like black leather and studs and chrome were in vogue for such accessories, right now. "Wow, I thought it couldn't be any later than seven or eight! Doesn't feel like I've been at this that long."

"When did you get up?" she asked, giving him a good morning peck on the cheek. There was a slight taste of dust and something almost metallic left on her lips.

"Around five. I just wasn't sleepy anymore and you were still zonked out, so I went looking for something to do rather than toss and turn and probably annoy you."

She swept the dissected motorcycle with a critical eye. "So you found yourself a motorcycle and decided to take it apart, for fun? Or did you take it out on the road and wrap it around some poor unsuspecting tree?"

He wasn't bothered by her teasing. "From the look of things, I suspect Wayne was the one who hit the poor tree, probably years ago." He picked up the now detached throttle control and held it up for her inspection. Roxanne had no trouble seeing the deep imprints of the fingers that had last clutched the thing when it had still been working. "The whole thing was pretty much of a wreck, except for the engine; it just needed a good cleaning and tuning to get it working again. I'm willing to bet that when Wayne was off from college one summer, he got the bike from his parents and proceeded to total it while he was trying to learn how to drive it."

He snorted. "That's the problem with being able to fly, you never learn how to operate vehicles properly. I found that out when I trapped him in my Evil Tribute to the Transformers scheme, back in '96. He could've seized control of my improved version of Megatron once he was inside it, just by using a set of manual controls that weren't any more difficult than a standard transmission car, but he gave up after three minutes and simply smashed it." His grunt was not terribly flattering for his former adversary. "He never had any respect for the value of my creations, or their subtle complexity!"

The brunette's sniff clearly begged to differ. "I've seen footage of your Megatron, and 'subtle' is _not _a word that could be applied to it! Though I get the point. Wayne never has been good with anything mechanical. He and cars do _not _get along!"

"I'd say the same is true with him and motorcycles. This is a classic 1940 Harley, and he did _this_ to it. It's a crime to leave it here, rotting away in a garage where obviously no one remembers it's even here. So I thought I'd tried to get it back in shape again. It's going to take time to properly restore it, though. That throttle is completely unsalvageable, thanks to his death grip. I could build a replacement from other parts, but using vintage equipment would keep the collector's value."

Roxanne grinned. "So you weren't thinking of turning it into some kind of weird superpowered, customized to the max crossbreed?"

Megamind's chuckle was dancing the fine line between mischievous and wicked as he set aside the trashed throttle and picked up the fender he'd been working on a short time ago, hammering out the crumpled front section. "I thought of it, but it's Wayne's bike, not mine. It's possible it was never repaired because suitable restoration parts couldn't be found — though I think it was more likely an out of sight, out of mind sort of thing. He just hauled it in here and forgot about it. I put a search request out on the Internet for the necessary parts; I'll wait and see what turns up. If there's nothing available, _then _I'll think about customizing it into something a little more my style."

"If Wayne doesn't mind," she reminded him.

"Oh, of course," he agreed with a dismissive gesture that pretty much said, "not really."

She took another look at the deconstructed cycle and sighed. "Does this mean you're planning to spend the rest of your vacation out here, working on this?" She tried not to sound disappointed, but couldn't quite keep it from her voice.

"What?" The green eyes snapped up as both the question and her tone registered. "Oh, no, no, no! I was feeling restless, like I needed to get my hands on something creative, and I didn't want to bother you, so this seemed like a good solution when I found it. I'd rather spend my time with you, seeing and doing new things, but I thought this might be a nice diversion for times when you want to do something I don't, or just need your space. I don't even know if Wayne would give a hoot over whether or not this thing ever runs again. But if I'd wanted to spend my vacation working in a garage, I could've just tried to stay at home and drop out of the public eye for a while. Really, I'm not all _that_ invested in this. It might be nice to get it working before we leave, to take a ride on some of those back roads in the open air, but we could always rent a motorcycle to do that."

From the look that crossed the blue face as he set down the still partly bent fender, Roxanne could tell he was beginning to feel some kind of regret over what he'd been doing — and that she might've caused it. "I'm sorry, Mykaal," she said as she drew him into a brief apologetic hug. "I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining. Vacations are supposed to be about resting and relaxing, yes, but also about getting back in harmony with the things that make you happy."

_"You _make me happy." There was not a trace of doubt in the statement.

"I know, but so does designing and inventing and being creative in a techie kind of way. I don't ever want you to give that up. I guess I just wanted to be sure that some of the other things we've been planning to do together weren't going to get shelved, or that I'd wind up spending my time alone while you did your thing out here."

"That won't happen," he promised as he pulled the work goggles completely off his head. "Like I said, this isn't even my bike, and if I want to actually restore it, I have to wait for the right parts for the throttle to turn up. That could take longer than we're planning to stay here. Once the last of the body and frame damage is fixed, it won't take long at all to put the rest of it back together. A few hours, tops."

"I didn't know you could work quite that fast — though I should've," she confessed, knowing how quickly she'd seen him at work once she'd moved into the Lair. "Did you want to spend the rest of the day working on this? With it raining, there might not be much of anything better to do."

But he shook his head. "We need to go out, we're running out of the supplies Wayne provided. And I haven't eaten anything yet, so I'm getting pretty hungry." He chuckled to himself as he started shutting off the radio and the work lights. "I gave our last apple to a visiting fox before I came in here and discovered all this."

Roxanne was startled. "A fox? Where was it? It didn't get into the house, did it? I had a weird dream about leaving the doors open..."

"No, it didn't get into the house. C'mon, I'll tell you about while I wash up and get changed. I feel like I've gotten at least fifteen years' worth of dust and old axle grease clogging my pores."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	11. The Encounter

_Author's Note: Though this started as the second half of the previous chapter, its tone and the events in it convinced me to split it off. There was going to be more beyond it, making the thing even longer, but that will have to wait for chapter 12. Unless the Muse does something strange again, there will be turkeys in twelve!_

* * *

XI

The Encounter

According to Wayne's notes, there were only two grocery stores of any size on the upper peninsula, one in Sister Bay and the other in Egg Harbor. Though the first was closer, they decided to go to the second for most of their supplies, since they had yet to make the drive along the Green Bay side, through the little New Englandish towns that were a very picturesque draw to many visitors. They had their late breakfast in the nearest of those small towns, Ephraim, at a little restaurant that Wayne had indicated was great for breakfast but to be avoided in the evenings, as it then hosted one of the nefarious fish boils. The place had a beautiful view of Eagle Harbor and the eastern side of Peninsula State Park. The latter was a heavily forested area atop massive stone bluffs, many times higher than those at Cave Point. Eagles had once made their aeries in those cliffs, and were said to be growing in numbers again, though none were visible in the day's wet and gloomy skies.

The couple agreed that the place would look much more impressive on a sunny day, and positively spectacular in full autumn foliage. What they couldn't agree on was the pronunciation of the town's name. Roxanne insisted that the word, which was Biblical in origin, was pronounced, _EH-fraim,_ with a short E sound on the first syllable and a long A on the second, but Megamind, remembering how James and others had said it, insisted that it was _EE-frum._ The debate was settled by a t-shirt that they saw available while they were paying their check, for though Roxanne was right about the word in its original form, Megamind was right about the form the settlers and now the locals had chosen for their town. He almost bought the shirt just to wear it and poke fun at his lady's stubbornness, but without Minion's deft fingers to make the alterations to accommodate his large skull, it was unfeasible.

The amused clerk, however, found a button bearing the slogan, and slipped it to him when she returned his credit card and his receipt, refusing any payment with a playful wink. When Roxanne's back was to him as he held the door for her to leave, he pinned it to his shirt, and it was the source of numerous chuckles and giggles and outright laughs for the remainder of the day. After so many years of correcting his peculiar pronunciations, she figured it was only fair for the shoe to be on the other foot for a change, and he was justified in making the most of it, even if just for one day.

Between Ephraim and Egg Harbor was the second largest of the towns in that part of the county, an unincorporated village called Fish Creek, which was situated around a harbor area on the western side of the large state park. It had a quaint little city center full of inns and small shops and eateries that were usually so popular with the visitors, the major crossroads at that point could get quite congested with pedestrians on busy days. As they'd made their way down from Ephraim, the rain had gotten heavier and the wind a bit stronger, so the crowds were somewhat less than they might've been, had the day been sunny and on a weekend.

Before they'd left the house, Roxanne had suggested making a stop here, if it wasn't too busy. She'd run out of certain bath supplies, and there was a shop in town that specialized in such items. They found a parking spot not too far from the place, fortunately on the side of things away from one of the most noted fish boil locations and its large signs declaring it so. Megamind accompanied her into the shop, but was a bit overwhelmed after only half a minute. The various scents of all the bath products, while pleasant as a simple aroma or two, were overpowering to his sensitive nose in such large quantity. With the rain and the wind, the doors had been closed, compounding the problem.

"I'll wait outside," he suggested while the brunette was checking out the startling variety of products that were available. There was a door in back that led to quiet area with an awning, with several other small buildings with tiny shops visible in a sort of courtyard area beyond.

"I'll try not to take too long," she promised. "Just don't wander so far that I can't reach your cell phone."

She laughed when he took a quick look around and deemed it safe enough to stick out his tongue, also quickly. Back at the restaurant in Ephraim, Roxanne had thought she'd heard her cell phone ringing, but when she pulled it out, she discovered that it wasn't even able to get a decent signal. Being situated in what was essentially a stone bowl that was open only to water on the north, it was nearly impossible for anyone to get a signal to their cells, as there were no conveniently located towers or repeaters around to direct the signal into it. Even Megamind's booster wasn't quite enough to give either of them more than a bare trace of a signal. The discovery had irked him, and he was determined to rectify the situation when they returned home. For now, it gave her something to tease back with, in light of the whole pronunciation thing.

"I'll be good," he assured her, the childish gesture replaced with a charmingly impish smile that made a couple of young customers who were standing nearby giggle. Just for effect, he waggled his eyebrows at them, making the girls blush and giggle all the more, then stepped outside.

Being August, the rain was thankfully warm, but coming down heavily enough to discourage much in the way of foot traffic. Most of the surrounding shops had wide eaves or awnings, and those who were out in spite of the rain generally dashed from one to the next to avoid getting wet as much as possible. The only building that had no such protective overhang was a small, very old log structure in the middle of the courtyard, so small that it could barely be called a cabin. The lights inside, however, were bright and spilled out into the gloomy day like the welcome of a candle in the window on a dark night. Its door was open, and in the two small windows that he could see, there were what looked to be either oddly shaped glass sculptures or rocks. Since the cabin was close and he was curious, he decided to have a closer look.

Inside, the place was a single oblong room with an unused fireplace opposite the one door. A glass-fronted counter with a cash register was to one side of the fireplace, and the corner diagonal to it had a work bench and some odd power tools, all covered with a gritty kind of dust. The rest of the place was lined with shelving units, and on every available flat surface, including the window sills, there were stones and crystals. Some items were objects made of stone — carvings and globes and jewelry and the like — but the vast majority of the wares were mineral specimens, ranging from small tumbled stones to huge split geodes that stood almost half the alien's height, rough looking gray stones filled with rich-hued amethyst crystals. Most items, though, were small, things that one might pick up to add to a mineral collection, or use as a striking piece of nature's art.

When Megamind entered, there were only three others in the shop: the male clerk behind the counter, a female customer who was asking him for advice about a selection she was trying to make, and a small child of no more than three, sitting on the floor behind the woman. The little blond boy was running his fingers through a basketful of tumbled stones, enjoying himself in a simple way; he looked up when the reformed villain entered, blinked for a moment, then plunged one hand into the basket and pulled out a particular stone, giggling with childish glee.

He held it up toward the alien with a wide smile. "Blue!" he declared with immense satisfaction, displaying for Megamind a stone that perfectly matched the alien's skin tone. "Blue!"

"Yes, Timmy," his mother said, her inflections showing a bored patience with her son's current learning obsession. "You know all your colors, that's very good."

Timmy giggled again. "No, Momma," he insisted in the way only a child his age could get away with. "Blue!"

Momma sighed, and the clerk who was being kept busy by her had his nose in a guide or catalog of some type. "I know, Timmy, blue is your favorite color. Could you just be quiet and play nicely for a bit? Mommy's busy."

Megamind recognized her type, the society woman who had more money than time for her own children, and was completely focused on fulfilling her personal needs, no matter how trivial they might be. He looked down at the disappointed little Timmy, then squatted down and smiled at him. "Blue's my favorite color, too," he said quietly, secretively, not wanting to draw Momma's attention from her oh-so-important business. He plucked at his shirt, which was a reverse blue and black version of his lightning bolt design, the blue more vibrant than his leathers. "Are you looking for blue stones?"

The boy nodded vigorously, glad to have someone's undivided attention. "Uh-huh! I got lots!" He picked up a small basket from the floor beside him, which had about a dozen of the tumbled blue stones in it, not so many that it was too heavy for him to lift. "These're pretty, but I like that 'un better!" He twisted his head and pointed to a larger specimen on a shelf behind and above him, too far for his small arm to reach, but not too far for Megamind.

"Which one?" the hero on holiday asked, since there were three different specimens, all of them some shade of blue. "This one?" He indicated the nearest one, which was a rather drab gray-blue.

Timmy's blond head shook vigorously. "Nope. That 'un!"

"This?" He touched the third large stone, a sort of flat greenish-blue with darker streaks.

Timmy giggled. "No! That!"

The blue finger came to rest on the one in the middle, which was a cluster of strikingly intense blue crystals. "Oh, this one?" he said with a droll smile.

"Yep!" Timmy clapped his hand. "It's _real _pretty!"

"You can't have it, Timmy," Momma scolded in an exasperated way as Megamind picked up the rather heavy stone, which fit comfortably on the palm of his hand. "Don't touch!"

"I ain't touchin', Momma!" the boy protested.

"I _know_ you are," she insisted. "Don't touch or there'll be consequences!"

"But I _ain't!"_

"Aren't," she corrected with a snap. "And don't argue with me, young man!"

Timmy's little face was stricken. "But Momma...!" he protested.

Megamind patted his arm in the reassuring way Roxanne often did when he was upset. "He isn't touching it, madam," he said in a normal volume as he stood straight again, putting his hard won skills in dealing with the citizens of Metro City to work. _"I _am."

The woman threw a most cursory glance over her shoulder, certain her son was somehow lying, then did such a rapid double-take, one could hear her neck crack. From the way she stiffened and gasped, eyes wide with shock, Megamind was certain he was about to face the kind of miserable treatment he still received from certain people back home. But the little boy wasn't to blame for his mother's narrow-mindedness, not toward him or her own son.

Before either of them could speak or move, however, the clerk looked up from his book, saw the new customer, and smiled broadly. "Ah, Mr. Megamind!" he greeted most jovially. "My wife said she'd heard you were here visiting the Door! Glad to have you in our shop! Is your lady friend here with you, Miss Ritchi? The missus said she thought she would be, but she wasn't sure, she'd just heard about you. Is there anything I can help you with? Are you looking for something in particular?"

"No, nothing in particular," he replied in his most pleasant voice, smiling ever so charmingly right into the face of the woman's... he couldn't quite call it hostility, but it was a close relation. Two years of dealing with the citizens of Metro City had improved his poker face when it came to this sort of standoff. "I was just checking out the neighborhood while Roxanne's busy with some shopping of her own. I'm afraid I _was _responsible for little Timmy's sudden interest in the color blue. Sorry if it created a disturbance."

"Oh, no, not at all," the proprietor assured him, still smiling. The woman wasn't, and Megamind could tell that she was holding in certain unpleasant words she might've spoken, not wanting the owner to see her in such a bad light, since he had no problem with his alien visitor. "Look around all you like, I'll just be another minute with Mrs. Walker, here."

To Megamind's eye, she would have liked to have grabbed her son and run, to put distance between herself and this spawn of Satan. But rather than give solid proof that she was a bigot in front of witnesses, she sniffed in a way that communicated both dismissal and revulsion, and pointedly turned her back on the alien. _Bitch, _he mouthed to her back, a terribly unheroic thing to do, but neither she nor the owner nor even Timmy noticed.

The boy was on his feet now, happily babbling about how much he liked all the bluest stones in the shop, pointing out all of his favorites to the blue-skinned visitor, who was still holding the one he'd picked up off the shelf. With Timmy so eagerly trying to get his attention, he didn't give it another thought until Mrs. Walker had hurriedly finished her business. She grabbed her son by the hand and rushed out of the shop as fast as she could, but not fast enough to keep the boy from smiling and waving a cheerful, "Bye!" to Megamind. When they were gone, the owner sighed.

"Takes all kinds to make a world," the older man said with a shake of his grizzled head. "That kind, too, sad to say. So, is there anything I can do to get the taste of that type out of your mouth? Don't want you to walk away with any bad feelings about my place."

The alien turned to look at the owner, whose accepting smile was genuine, as were his words. He was about to say no when he felt the stone still in his hand. "Yes," he said, taking a closer look at the thing. Whatever the cluster of crystals was, its blue color was quite remarkable and seemed natural, unlike some of the obviously dyed tumbled stones, but he couldn't be certain. "What is this?"

The man nodded. "Pretty, isn't it? That's called aqua aura quartz. It's not the stone's natural color, it's what happens to ordinary quartz crystals when they're coated with gold fumes in a sort of vacuum process. People like the color, so we pick up good specimens when we find 'em. There aren't a lot of blue crystals that are so vivid and aren't either expensive, like sapphire, or have to be stored in special conditions to keep their color, like azurite. We have some small azurite specimens, but no sapphire, that's a little more pricey than most of our customers want. There's a jeweler just up the street who has some nice cut sapphires, if you're interested in that sort of thing."

Megamind shook his head. "Thanks, no, I was really just curious about the shop. It seems so small, compared to the others."

The owner chuckled. "Sometimes, the best things are the small ones. We may not be big as rock shops go, but our customers like us — even if we're not so fond of all our customers," he added with a wink and a nod of his head, tipping it in the direction Mrs. Walker had gone.

The alien smiled, knowing that the man was trying to mitigate some of the sting caused by the woman's prejudice. As he returned the piece of quartz to its place on the shelf, his movement made one of the overhead lights glint off another stone on the counter, catching his eye. "What is this?" he asked as he picked it up, noting that there was another stone of the same type on the glass counter top. Though smaller than the quartz cluster, it was heavier, its smooth surface dark, a glossy almost-black flecked with tiny silvery specks that shimmered like stars as it was moved under the light.

"Something you might appreciate a little, we got it from Michigan. That's specular hematite, comes from some of the mines in the UP. It's not rare, but it's eye catching, and big pieces make mighty good paperweights or bookends. That's what Mrs. Walker was after, some stones her bigwig husband could use with his new black and silver office decor. She had me looking it up to prove I knew what it was before you came in, and she couldn't make up her mind between those two stones before she decided to up and leave. She said she'd go consult her husband and come back, but I'll bet you anything she's just hanging out in one of the other shops, waiting for you to leave before coming back. I've had to deal with her type before."

"So have I," Megamind said with a sigh. He studied the dark stone for a few moments, enjoying the way the light made it shine like black metal even as it glittered like a clear night sky. Suddenly, the sigh became a wicked chuckle. "You know, I just finished building Roxanne a home office, and I'll bet she'd enjoy having a couple of attractive paperweights as a little souvenir of our visit." His smile matched the sound of his chuckle.

The owner grinned in return, understanding perfectly. "Would you like them gift wrapped?" he asked with a conspiratorial wink, collecting the second stone even as Megamind handed him the first. Mrs. Walker would be _so _disappointed. And it would serve her right.

A few minutes later, he left the cabin, package in hand. It was still raining, and a quick glance at the bath shop window showed that Roxanne was still trying to decide among the almost too many choices before her. He was about to return when he saw that the owner of the rock shop had been right about Mrs. Walker lying in wait in another store. He could see her in the bath shop standing not far from Roxanne, pretending interest in something on a shelf. Rather than approach her head on, knowing that she would be looking in this direction, he decided to go around the end of the building and reenter from the front, giving the unpleasant woman time to leave before he came into the store.

As he was coming around the corner of the building's end, he caught the scent of something sweet and much more pleasant than the wares of the bath shop. It was a warm, buttery, chocolatey smell, and it set his mouth to watering even though he'd finished breakfast less than a half hour ago. He looked in the direction the heavenly aromas seemed to be wafting from, and saw a small white-sided building with a sign proclaiming _Ice Cream & Confectionary._ Almost without conscious thought, the blue sugar junkie decided to make a brief — and certain to be more pleasant than his original course — detour.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the bath shop, Roxanne had finally narrowed down her choices for the items she wanted. Normally, she wasn't so picky, but she'd rarely seen so many varieties of soaps, lotions, and other products for body and hair, almost all of which were either natural or fully organic. She wasn't familiar with several of the lines, and she wanted to be sure that she didn't pick something that would offend her perfume sensitive boyfriend. There were a few smells she knew he found unpleasant that were totally undetectable to her nose, so she made a point of checking labels for any of the offensive ingredients. That had taken more time than she'd anticipated. Now, it was just a question of selecting the ones she preferred that she felt he'd also enjoy. The clerks had been very helpful, since until a few minutes ago, the shop had been relatively quiet, with only a few other customers about. That calm had been shattered when a woman and her little boy came charging in through the rear door, more loudly than a simple dash to avoid the rain would have warranted.

One of the clerks had gone at once to see if she needed anything, but the woman had waved her off irritably, instead bending her energies to scold her small son for something he didn't seem to think merited punishment. Roxanne skillfully tuned her out until, after several more minutes of grousing, the woman heaved a sigh of relief that would've qualified as a hurricane level gust. "Oh, thank God, that horrible blue thing is finally leaving!"

Even though she'd been in total ignore mode, Roxanne shifted to full red alert when the words "blue thing" dripped from the woman's tongue like venom. As she was standing comparatively nearby, the reporter turned to the woman and asked mildly, "I beg your pardon?"

The woman mistook the simple question as interest in her plight, which Roxanne fully expected. "Out in the rock shop, this positively ghastly blue freak came walking in like he owned the place, and even had the nerve to attempt enticing my son, in broad daylight!"

"I'm sure you were mistaken."

"Oh, no, it was no mistake, I saw it with my own eyes! The brazen, big-headed monster! What is this world coming to, when... _creatures _like that have free run of the streets, are allowed to accost innocent children in public places? And this used to be such a quiet and _safe _little town...!"

The expressions on the faces of the clerks and customers witnessing the woman's rant ranged from confusion to disbelief to disgust for the woman's histrionics, not to mention her attitude. From the look on her little boy's face, he was upset, and not for the reasons his mother was raving about.

"But Momma," the child stammered, "he's a _nice _man...!"

"Shush, Timmy!" she snapped without bothering to look at him. "Don't interrupt Mommy. You don't know what you're talking about!"

"If he doesn't, I'd say he learned from an expert," Roxanne said in a level voice that was completely at odds with her dangerous expression.

Momma was oblivious to it. "Oh, my dear, you weren't there, you don't know—" Her patronizing complaints choked to a halt as the reporter fully turned to her, her normally pleasant face set in a look that _hard _only began to describe, her blue eyes burning in much the same way as Hal's had before he did something lethal with his artificially acquired laser vision. If one could have killed with a glance, the ranting bitch would've been a pile of smoking ash by now.

"I know that _you _don't know what you're talking about," Roxanne replied, her still-level tone sharp and icy. "That 'horrible blue thing' has never hurt anyone in his entire life, not deliberately, which I can't say for _you,_ and he would _never _accost a child! You need to get your facts straight before you go around making accusations."

"But you weren't there!" the woman rebutted in the manner of one trying to defend the indefensible. "You didn't see him!"

"I may not have seen him in that shop, but I see him every day. That 'ghastly blue freak' just happens to be my boyfriend, and if he once did wrong with his life, it was because of narrow-minded bigots like you who wouldn't give him a chance, much less a choice! He _saves _the lives of little boys like yours, he _never _accosts them or would even _dream_ of hurting them in the way you're obviously implying. He risks his life every single day to help put the real monsters where they belong, in prison, and he works longer and harder than you can even begin to imagine to find ways to make this a better world for everyone, even pompous idiots like you! He came here with me to this nice quiet little town to get the first real rest and relaxation he's ever had in his entire life — and if anyone's spoiling the place, it's people like you, not him! If you can't see beyond the color of a person's skin, if seeing things that don't conform to your idea of 'perfect' brings on hallucinations like this, then you don't just need to have your eyes checked; you need to have your head examined!"

Though dumbstruck by Roxanne's dressing-down, the progress of the woman's reactions to it could be seen on her face, first flushing pink at the horror of being caught in a bald-faced lie, then blanching white at the vehemence of the reporter's backlash, and finally blazing red with self-important anger. "How _dare _you!" she began, voice high and constricted with defensive fury. From her posture and the look on her face, she was used to those three words being enough to end any further discussion.

But Roxanne wasn't even slowed for a second. "I dare because _someone _has to stand up to brainless social terrorists like you, who go around slapping labels on people they don't even know because they don't like the way they look or dress. I dare because the _real_ monsters in this world go around with more money than brains and the attitude that they can buy anything and anyone they want and walk all over other people's basic human rights to get it!"

_"Human?" _the woman spat derisively. "That _thing _isn't human...!"

Roxanne's snort raised contempt to a virtue of the highest order. "Take it from an expert, lady — and I use the word loosely, because you'd have to climb a few dozen more rungs up the evolutionary ladder to qualify as a lady — that 'thing' is more human than half the people who were born on this planet! That big head of his isn't freakish or deformed or monstrous; it has a brain that's obviously a few million IQ points higher than yours, 'cause from this little display you've been giving, I'd say you have the IQ of a brain damaged newt! You don't know him, you have no right to judge him, and you _certainly _have no right to go around spreading lies about something he didn't do! And if you want to know just how I know you're lying, just ask your little boy. He doesn't have anything to gain by lying, and he's the one who said it: 'He's a _nice _man!'"

"Out of the mouths of babes," one of the clerks murmured to another customer, who nodded.

The raving socialite, seeing that no one in the place was on her side, not even her son, stiffened her spine, clenched her teeth, and flung out one hand to grab her son by the shoulder. "Come along, Timmy," she ordered, hissing. "I can see we'll never be coming back _here_ again!"

"And good riddance!" someone called out.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," one of the clerks agreed, adding with a snicker, "oops, too late, guess it did!"

After the irate woman had tripped her way out of the store, reluctant son in tow, Roxanne shuddered, letting go of some of the physical anger that had fueled her tirade. One of the other customers, an elderly lady, patted her arm in sympathy. "There, there, dear, just take a deep breath. That was a brave thing you did, standing up to her like that. More people should, with her type. They don't own the world or the people in it, and they need to be reminded that other people have rights, too, no matter how different they look."

Roxanne gave the woman a grateful smile, feeling a little weak now that her outrage was dissipating. She turned to the clerk who'd been helping her. "I'm sorry if I lost you a customer..."

"Her?" The clerk made a dismissive gesture. "Pfft, no loss. Mrs. Walker comes into the shop every time she's in town, monopolizes the staff for an hour, insists on being waited on hand and foot and sampling everything, then spends a few dollars on a stick of lip balm if she buys anything at all. Her little boy's a sweetheart, that's why we put up with her."

"He must get it from his father," the other clerk chimed in. "If he took after her, he'd be hell on training wheels!"

That brought a chuckle to more than Roxanne's lips, and the lingering tension drained. Just then, the front door to the shop opened, and the "horrible blue thing" that had been the subject of debate came in, a brown paper-wrapped parcel under one arm, a red and white striped bag in hand, and a contented look on his face as he finished chewing on something that was plainly very much to his liking.

"Ah, Roxanne!" Megamind greeted cheerfully, swallowing one last time to clear his mouth, blissfully unaware of what had just occurred. "Did you know there's a shop next door that makes the most fantastic fudge you ever tasted? Not at all gritty like that stuff Wayne likes, and they have so many different kinds! I don't know what it is around here with this obsession for cherries, I never really cared all that much for them before, but they really do some delicious things with them — you have _got _to try this chocolate cherry fudge...!"

His comments and his attitude were so relaxed and blithely unmonstrous, so completely at odds with everything the biased Walker woman had said, it won chuckles and laughter and giggles from everyone in the shop. Puzzled by this unexpected reaction, Megamind stopped and blinked, brow furrowed. "What'd I say?" he asked as he moved closer to his girlfriend, complete beflummoxed by the inoffensive laughter.

Roxanne smiled as she kissed his cheek. "Just the right thing, sweetie," she promised him, eyes shining. "You just fixed something pretty nasty just by being you."

The green eyes widened innocently. "I did? How?"

"I'll tell you later," she promised. "Just let me make my purchase and we can go."

"Are you sure you're ready?" he had to ask, seeing a large array of bottles and tubes and jars atop the counter that even Pinky would have a hard time putting in any sensible order. "If you need a little more time, there's a leather shop on the corner I could check out."

She grinned now, both at his well known fondness for leather goods and his willingness to be an actual participant in a shopping trip, which many men would have hated without there being plenty of hardware and electronics in the offing. Though he loved those things, too, he didn't object when they weren't there, so long as he got to do a little exploring of things that he found intriguing, whether they be leather or spikes or sweets. "Why don't I meet you there?" she suggested. "I know you have an easier time with the smell of leather than all this girly stuff. I'll be along in a few minutes."

His happy smile told her that he was pleased with the compromise. He kissed her cheek in thanks and headed back to the door, humming and digging into his bag from the candy shop as he went.

The clerk who had been helping Roxanne watched him go with a smile of her own. "He's sort of like a big kid, isn't he?" she said once Megamind had gone. "Sweet and kind of funny."

"You have no idea," the reporter confirmed, laughing. "That's why I knew that woman was lying about him accosting her son. He lived with so much bullying when he was young, he couldn't ever do it himself, especially not to a child. Not that he doesn't know how to fight back like a grown up; he does, but only when he has to. It's part of his job, now, and he takes it very seriously, but it hasn't changed that excited little boy part of him at all — thank God. I don't think there's another person in the whole world quite like him."

The clerk nodded. "You're a lucky woman, Ms Ritchi," she said with a wistful sigh.

Roxanne's eyes sparkled with glints of humor as well as tender gratitude for the strange workings of fate. "And believe me," she promised, completely in earnest, "I know it."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	12. The Calm Before

_Author's Note: I had really, truly intended this to be a single chapter, but as I might've known, the Muse had other ideas. Fortunately, she provided a logical break at a good point, so rather than present my good readers with an 11,000 word chapter, I give you two. The Muse also had the grace to let me keep my promise — though this is not the last we will see of __Meleagris gallopavo__. More will be coming soon! And as always, my humble and grateful thanks to my kind reviewers!_

* * *

XII

The Calm Before

The shop that Megamind had mentioned to Roxanne carried a good selection of high-end leather goods and clothing as its primary merchandise, though it also had a remarkable variety of other clothing and one of a kind decorative items available. Though the scent of the shop was primarily than of leather and wood, what caught the eye to someone first entering was a semi-circle of soft leather couches, colorful hand-woven throws, and fascinating coffee tables made from the carved trunks of trees or huge slabs of natural agate and jasper. Though the furniture could be purchased, it had been set up for the comfort of customers who wished to rest their feet for a minute, or wanted to try on some of the leather shoes and boots available.

The place was quiet when Megamind entered, managing to get inside just before a downpour let loose. "Here comes another one," he heard a woman's voice say from off to his left beyond an obscuring wall of hanging clothes and tall wooden carvings, almost in a groan.

"Well, the weather reports said we'll be getting these bands of rain all day, until after the front passes through," a man's voice from somewhere on his right replied, his figure also hidden by racks and other display cases holding everything from jackets and shirts to boots and shoes.

"That means lousy sales until then," the woman sighed. "When's that front due?"

"Around four or five, last I heard. If it clears off after the storms roll through, like they're saying it should, business should pick up by evening. It's not that big a deal, Sunny, we needed a break to get some restocking done."

"I guess you're — oh, wow!"

While idly listening to the conversation of the two shopkeepers over the background music from a radio, Megamind had been studying one of the tables with a stone slab for a top, fascinated not only by the banded pattern of the black and gray agate, but by the naturally formed cavities filled with tiny sparkling druzy quartz crystals that were part of the asymmetrical oval. The woman's exclamation sounded nearer than her other comments and caused him to look up, simply out of habit.

The woman — Sunny, who looked to be about forty, dressed rather casually in jeans, an embroidered peasant blouse, and a beaded leather vest, her long brown hair pulled back with a leather thong — had stepped out from behind a display of women's suede coats. She'd spotted the newest potential customer; her gray eyes sparkled with recognition, and she was grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, Charley, hold off on the restocking for a minute and come out here!"

"What?" came the somewhat testy reply. "Unless we've got some tour bus just pulling in, I wanna get these boxes emptied, we need the space!"

Sunny rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, suit yourself, I'll take care of this myself. Your loss!"

The answering snort was just shy of rude. "Yeah, yeah, like I'm working on commission..."

The woman chuckled. Megamind was a bit puzzled. "Does this have something to do with me?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh, don't worry," she forestalled when it looked as if he was about to start doing just that. "I'm not trying to sell you something or ask for anything. But aside from the things we get from some high-end manufacturers, we carry items made by local artists and artisans. That table, for instance, has a base hand-carved by a woodworker in Ellison Bay, and some of the metal sculpture is made by a blacksmith we know in the Valmy area. Some of our leathers are custom made by a friend of ours who has a reputation for combining art and function. You're practically a legend to all the leather workers who live anywhere near Lake Michigan, you know. They all want to find out who makes your outfits, they're that impressed."

That revelation brought a half-relieved smile to the blue hero's face. "They don't already know? I would've thought the media would've covered that a long time ago. They seem to publish every other scrap of information they can find on me, even when they aren't true!"

Sunny understood. "Yeah, I've seen those tabloid and celebrity gossip rags. They say you have your gear made by a fish, but that seems just a little — well, out there, if you know what I mean."

Now, Megamind laughed. "I suppose it does, but for once, it's true. My friend Minion either makes or alters most of my clothes, since I wasn't exactly able to go to an ordinary tailor until recently. He _is _a fish, but not from Earth; he's fully sapient and quite intelligent. He came with me when I was sent here as a baby, just before our homeworld was destroyed, and I've made him a number of neurally controlled robotic suits that let him move and work almost like an ordinary human — even better, in some ways. He's astonishingly good with his hands, and he does remarkable things with leather and fabric."

The woman was surprised, but not displeased. "Really! We know about Minion, of course, but as your sidekick. We didn't know he had those kinds of skills! Did he come with you?"

The alien shook his head. "No, though he might come to join us, in a week or two. For now, he's at home, minding the store for me."

"Well, if he does come up, would you ask him to stop by, if he's interested? Our friend Toby would love a chance to meet him, to tell him how much he admires his work."

By now, Megamind had learned the wisdom of not speaking on behalf of his guardian. "I can't promise he'll come, but I'll give him the message."

"That's more than enough, thanks. Oh, if you have a minute, there's something I'd like you to see!" Sunny turned to move back the way she'd come, motioning for Megamind to follow. Beyond the rack of coats, he could see that the shop spread to the left in a larger wing, filled with leather goods, furs, hats, boots, and other useful or decorative items. Near the centrally located rear door was a large glass display case between a pair of small computerized cash registers. Sunny moved behind the counter, to where concealed shelves and cabinets kept things that had been set aside for one reason or another. "Toby does custom leathers for some of the bikers who come through; a lot of 'em like taking the Lake Michigan Circle Tour," she explained. "We heard you were in the area early last week — don't be too surprised about that, news travels fast among the locals, especially when it's about something or someone interesting or exciting. Toby's a huge fan of yours, for a lot of reasons — the leatherwork for one, and being an ex-con who went straight and cleaned up his life for another."

As he followed Sunny, Megamind's attention had been wandering to some of the Native American artwork on display, suspended from the rough-hewn rafters; now, she had his full attention. "Your friend was a felon?"

She nodded. "He was half-Ojibwa in a little town that didn't care much for half-bloods. He wound up falling in with a bad crowd when was in high school, trying to find a place to fit in. Ended up in and out of prison a bunch of times — never for murder or assault, thank God. The last time he made parole, he decided that this time, he wasn't going back, he was gonna find a way to straighten up his life for good. He had some troubles at first, but about the time he discovered his knack for working with leather, you up and turned around from being the Holy Terror of the Western Great Lakes to taking over the job of the superhero you'd been fighting with for twenty years! Toby almost couldn't believe it, until footage started making the rounds on all the news stations of you in action. He was inspired, especially after what you did at last year's Summerfest down in Milwaukee. After that, you became a role model to him — a sort of hero, too. If you could make a good life for yourself after a whole lifetime of dealing with prejudice and being on the wrong side of the law, so could he. It really helped him get his life back on the right track again."

For a few moments, Megamind didn't know what to say. In Metro City, he had, of course, had dealings with former prisoners, some who had completed their sentences, some who were out on parole, others who'd escaped and were up to no good. Most of those who had gone straight had nothing but support for him, but some on parole considered him a traitor, selling out to the enemy in the worst way possible, by becoming one of them. Those who had no intention of cleaning up their lives actively hated him. Because of those experiences, he was always a little leery when he heard that someone was an ex-con, never knowing how they would react to him. That this Toby fellow not only approved but looked upon him as a positive example was both encouraging and a relief.

"I'm glad to hear that he's doing well now," he finally said. "I know how difficult it can be, trying to survive as a social reject, then trying to get beyond all your past mistakes when you finally wake up and smell the coffee. I have to admit, I really hadn't considered myself as that kind of a role model, until just now."

Sunny smiled as she continued to search the storage areas. "I think you'd be surprised to find out just how much of a positive influence you've had that way, without knowing it. I know Toby would be first in a long line, wanting to shake your hand for giving him that kind of help. Anyway, he was here in the store last week when we heard that you were in the area on vacation. We didn't know how long you'd be around, but he got an idea and just had to go to work on it right away. He brought it in this morning on his way down to Green Bay to pick up supplies, and was a little disappointed that it took him more than a week to finish it. A lot of folks only spend a weekend or a week here, unless they have a place of their own. He won't be back 'til tonight, but he'll be thrilled to hear you stopped by. Just let me find it, I think you'll get a kick out of it." She ducked down to rummage through the lower storage niches and hidden cabinets.

While she was searching, Megamind glanced at the wares inside the display case. On the lower shelves, there were a number of knives with decoratively carved handles and fine-tooled leather cases, along with an assortment of small and very expensive looking leather goods. The entirety of the uppermost shelves was filled with cases of jewelry, rings and bracelets and necklaces of bright metals and sparkling stones of many different colors. "Are you the jeweler the owner of the rock shop mentioned to me?" he wondered.

"You mean a real jeweler, high quality gemstones and precious metals type?" Sunny shook her head, still searching. "No, that'd be Max Andersen. His gallery's right behind us." She waved one hand toward the tall windows flanking the shop's back door, which led to a parking lot and a low log-cabin style building beyond it. Even through the rain, Megamind could read the sign for the shop, proclaiming that it specialized in custom fine jewelry. "He's one of the best goldsmiths I've ever seen, does original work both fast and beautifully. If you're in the market for something special, he'd be the man to see. Darn it, where is that stuff? Hey, Charley, what'd you do with the things Toby dropped off this morning?"

"It's in the shoe storeroom," Charley's voice came drifting back from amid the wares at the far west end of the shop. "I didn't want to leave it out where someone might see it and get the idea that it's a new line we've got for sale."

"Thanks," she called back. "This'll just take a minute," Sunny promised, heading for the room in question. Megamind nodded distractedly as she hurried off. His eyes were still focused on the pretty things in the cabinet, though he wasn't actually seeing what was there. The wheels in his head that were always working on so many things turned a bit, and another puzzle piece clicked into place, the mental image he'd been pondering early that morning came into clearer focus.

Almost as if on cue, Roxanne came rushing in through the front door, huddled under a small umbrella that wasn't offering much in the way of protection from the heavy rain outside. She shook herself off as she quickly closed the door behind her. "Whew!" she sighed gustily, running a hand through her hair. "I know it's raining cats and dogs out there, 'cause I think I caught some of the fur in my teeth!"

Megamind had started to smile when he saw her entering, but the look instantly turned to one of confusion. "I have _never _understood that phrase! What does rain have to do with cats and dogs? Cats are supposed to hate water, and it makes dogs smell terrible! Is this another one of those _ooxiemorons?"_

"Could be, hon," his girlfriend said as she tried to shake off as much dampness as she could before getting too close to the merchandise. As she set aside the umbrella, she glanced around the shop. "Wow, nice stuff they have here! But I thought you said it carries leather goods...?" She could smell them, but not easily see them from that vantage.

"Ladies' items are to your left," Charley's voice called out from somewhere among the racks and cabinets off to the right of the door. "Sunny, would you give the lady a hand? I'm a little hemmed in by boxes right at the moment..."

"That's okay," Roxanne called back, "I can browse on my own for a few minutes, thanks! It's good just to be out of the rain!" She moved in, away from the door, and saw what the clerk had mentioned, racks and displays of leather jackets, coats, vests, even some dresses and skirts, from very practical to very decorative, all quite nicely made. "Ooh, great!" she said with a grin. "I've been thinking I should have a few good leather pieces, so we can sort of coordinate from time to time. I just didn't want to bother Minion with it, he spends enough time keeping your things in shape. Do you mind if I take a look?"

Her beau shook his head and was about to say no when Sunny exclaimed, "Ah, here it is! Mister — uh, sir, would you come this way for a moment?" For some inexplicable reason, she didn't want to use his name.

Roxanne, figuring it was the usual reaction people had when they wanted to be polite to the alien but felt a little weird calling him "Mister Megamind" or even just "Megamind," waved him off. "Go ahead, I'd like a little time to see what _I _might like before you start suggesting black skin-tight and ten pounds of studs and spikes." She was plainly teasing, so unoffended, he went to join the clerk.

She heard delighted laughter come from that end of the store a minute later. "Is everything okay?" she called, idly curious rather than concerned.

"Oh, yes, it's fine," Megamind's voice answered, bright with good humor. "Just keep browsing, I'll come show you in a minute, all right?"

"Okay, take your time, I've barely started looking." When that was acknowledged with an amused snort, she turned in earnest to checking out the wares. After a few minutes' search, she had spotted a couple of interesting jackets and was looking for appropriate sizes when she heard the sound of footsteps and ill-suppressed chuckles returning to the center of the room.

"Well, what do you think?" Megamind asked, using the suavely not-so-menacing voice that had always reminded Roxanne more of James Bond — Sean Connery era, or maybe Pierce Brosnan — than any villain she'd ever heard. She turned to see what was up and made a sound of pleasantly startled surprise.

The reformed villain had exchanged his black jeans and sneakers for an almost-classic set of black biker's leathers that had the updated novelty of being designed to incorporate his blue lightning bolt emblem in the construction of both the jacket and the pants. Rather than hidden as they were on his working costumes, the broad-toothed silver zippers were quite apparent, running up the slanted and slightly off-centered front closure that allowed the lapels to be overlapped and tucked in to cut the chilling effect of high speeds. More zippers ran across a number of pockets on the body and upper sleeves, and up the forearms from their snug cuffs to just below the elbows. The jagged blue portion of the design on the chest area was very similar to that of his traditional costume, though it was also incorporated into the outer part of the arms, over the shoulders and to the neck. The collar was completely an homage to that of his cape, slightly reduced in size but still flaring up his long neck to frame the lower part of his large head. There were bright silver buckles on the straps that could be used to tighten the waist and cuffs to prevent any cold air or damp rain from creeping in; those at the wrists were adorned with a band of short silver spikes.

The close-fitting black leather slacks were cut in jeans style rather than the smoothly seamless look of his costume; the blue of the lightning motif lanced down their outer seams to disappear into a pair of high black boots that were very similar in style to those he typically wore, with blue and silver tooling at the front seams mimicking the lightning design. Decorative straps around the tops of the boots and across the ankles were set with the same short spikes as the wrist straps. All he needed was his silver logo buckle and his de-gun and he'd be ready to hop on a suitably tricked out black Harley and head out on street patrol in the roughest part of Metro City.

"That's perfect!" Roxanne declared as her beau happily showed it off for her, strutting and posing as he might to display an exceptionally good new cape from Minion's hands. "Who made it? That can't be something they just had on hand, your sizes are usually impossible to find without alterations!"

Sunny laughed, and gladly told her the story of their friend Toby, and his admiration for her unique blue hero. "Toby has an almost uncanny eye for figuring out someone's exact measurements without using any tapes or fittings. He's never seen — ah — _him _in person, so he could only guess from what he'd seen in photos and news footage, but he came very close, I think."

"Perfect, I'd say," was Roxanne's opinion. "Does it feel right to you, sweetie?"

"Almost," the alien had to admit. "The upper sleeves are just a bit tight across the shoulders, and the strap on the jacket waist needs another grommet hole to cinch in properly. That I could live with; it's the pants that're a little too off." From the way he wriggled and winced, she understood perfectly.

"Don't feel bad about it," she suggested with an appreciative wink and a deliberately misdirected pat on her boyfriend's snugly beleathered behind. "With the protective layers and the support structure Minion builds into your gear to keep you from getting hurt in a fight, people do tend to think you're as anatomically correct as a Ken doll."

"No doubt that's where all those absurd rumors start," he grimaced, trying his best to adjust the inseams that were threatening to geld him without being indiscreet in front of a strange woman. When he saw Sunny's concerned expression, he smiled. "Oh, I'm not complaining! Your friend did an astonishingly good job, seeing that we've never met and I'm not what could be called normally proportioned for an adult male. Even the best tailors always need to make a few alterations before an outfit's finished, and working with leather can make things even more difficult — especially cowhide, it's not as forgiving as buckskin or glove leather. Your friend didn't expect me to take this with me, did he?"

"I don't know," Sunny admitted. "He said he just finished it last night, and like I said earlier, he dropped it off so Charley and I could see it. He had no idea you'd be here today, or were even still in the area. He may stop by again this evening, but I can't say for sure. He's going to be sorry he missed meeting you."

"He doesn't have to be. You wanted me to ask Minion to stop by when he comes to join us. I don't see why all of us can't come back then. I'd like to meet Toby myself, and I think we could kill two boards with one stone."

"It's 'birds,' hon," Roxanne gently corrected him.

Megamind lifted his chin in a perfect display of haughty disdain, made even more effective by the flare of the high leather collar. "It is for _other_ people, not for me," he said indignantly. "Heroes do _not _kill innocent little birds!"

Both women laughed, Roxanne especially so, remembering the incident at the Lair almost two years past, with a little bird Minion had called Buddy. Their laughter got Charley's attention. "All right," he grumbled, "I'm finally finished emptying those danged boxes — now, what's so funny?"

As the man's footsteps could be heard approaching, Sunny deliberately scooted away to move more or less out of sight, gesturing for Megamind to stay where he was at the open center of the room. Roxanne followed the other woman's cue and ducked behind a rack of jackets, peering over the top to watch the scene unfold.

The ex-villain could never be accused of not having a keen flair for the dramatic. Catching on to what Sunny wanted, he swept up the jacket's collar to its fullest height, found a useful puddle of light under an overhead tracklight, and struck his best Evil Pose with the appropriate Evil Smile as Charley — a shortish older man with glasses and seriously thinning hair — emerged from among the hanging coats and shirts and jackets. "Okay, what's — up?" His voice turned from bark to squeak as he caught sight of what looked to be the Alien Biker From Hell.

"Good afternoon, Charles," he said in a flawlessly silky villain voice that could send shivers up the spine of a yeti. He'd seldom nailed it so well even in the days when he _was_ a villain. "Do you think you could help me find some—" He steepled his fingers and raised one black eyebrow, his growing smile baring gleaming white teeth. "—accessories?"

Luckily for Charley, there was a pile of fluffy sheepskin rugs on the floor behind him to cushion his fall as he fainted.

* * *

Roxanne was still prone to fits of laughter long after they'd coaxed poor Charley back to the land of the living and apologized for the unexpected result of the little prank. By the time he'd come around, Megamind had changed back into his own clothes and was looking considerably less threatening — sheepish, even, if the word hadn't been a little inappropriate, given what had saved the poor man in his fall.

Charley took it all with admirably good humor, especially since it had been Sunny's idea, her way of getting even with him for not coming out when she'd called for him right after the blue-skinned visitor had entered their shop. Sunny gave them every contact number she could think of and they provided the number for the Scotts' summer house; promises were also made that they would get in touch after Minion had come to join them during the latter part of their stay. Roxanne decided that she would hold off on her clothing shopping until then, especially since Charley told her that they were due to receive several new shipments of the things she was most interested in next week. He also asked for the reporter's sizes, so he could set aside for her anything especially interesting that might come in, to give her the first pick of the best stuff.

It was well after two by the time they were on the road again, headed for the grocer's in Egg Harbor. The heavy rain had lightened a bit, but the radio at the shop had continued to predict bands of heavy rain, high winds, and some strong thunderstorms until a front pushed in somewhere around four. Since they had wanted to return to Cave Point to see it in stormy weather, this seemed like it would be a good day for it, as Egg Harbor was halfway there, and unless things changed dramatically, there would be plenty of time to do their marketing and make even a cautious drive to the other side of the peninsula. Sunny had heard them discussing this after they'd heard the weather report, and loaned them a pair of oilskin rain jackets that would provide better protection than the inadequate umbrella Roxanne had borrowed from one of the clerks at the bath shop. They gratefully accepted the offer, even though the protective hood would be of no use on Megamind's singularly large head.

"It's a good thing that that poor man landed on those sheepskin rugs and didn't have a heart attack!" the reporter couldn't help but giggle as they headed down the highway toward their next stop. She'd already given him the full tale of the confrontation in the bath shop, and he'd filled her in on what had happened with him in the rock shop and before they'd joined up again at the leather store. "I don't think it would've done much for our vacation, not to say our reputations, to get hit with some kind of lawsuit!"

Megamind snorted, munching on a bit of his fudge. "And it's a good thing you didn't literally start pushing around that Walker woman, like you used to do to me when you got mad! Did you _really _tell her off like that?"

Roxanne looked away from the road before her long enough to aim a wicked grin in his direction. "Of course I did! I'm sick and tired of people who've never met you passing judgment on you, and she went _way _beyond that, accusing you of being some kind of child molester! If I ever hear anything that even hints that she's gone and spouted that filth after she left that shop, I'll see to it that she's hit so hard with charges of slander, she won't know her head's been spinning 'til it comes to a stop facing her ass!"

The blue hero couldn't help but smile. "Ah, Roxanne my love, I think _you _should've been the one to take up a career as a supervillain! Even Wayne with all his powers and invulnerability wouldn't have stood a chance against you!"

She batted his arm, playfully. "Yeah, right. Roxanne Ritchi, Incredibly Short Super Suer and Master of All Litigation. Doesn't have a very nice ring to it, does it?"

"I guess not, but really, I'm... flattered? Touched? You have your own reputation to consider, your own career, and ripping a new one on bigoted snobs might not be a wise thing to do, no matter how much I appreciate your support."

Now, she settled her hand on his thigh and squeezed, gently. "Someone has to stand up to them, Mykaal. If I just stood around and let them say things about you that aren't true without speaking up, I'd be no better than they are. No career is more important than defending the people you love."

Smiling more widely, he settled back in his seat and covered her hand with his own. "Thank you. I hope you know that I'd do the same for you."

"Of course I do. You've saved my life more than once, haven't you? I'd say that qualifies as defending someone you love."

"I suppose it d—_aaaagh!"_

Roxanne suddenly slammed on the brakes, half-strangling her beau on his seatbelt as the car screeched to a halt. "What is it?" he demanded, rubbing his abused neck. "What hap—oh my God! What's _that?"_

They had just passed through a stretch of road with thick woods on either side. As they'd come into a more open area with the woods only on one side and an orchard on the other, a rather large and dark critter had darted in front of the car, causing Roxanne to hit the brakes rather than it. It was a good thing, since the first running creature was followed by more, dashing across the road. For a moment, Megamind thought it was deer again, but these were lower, smaller, and darker.

"Turkeys!" Roxanne replied as well over a dozen of the big birds ran, very fast, from the orchard on their right, across the road, and into the woods on their left.

"Turkeys!" At the very utterance of the word, he forgot all about his throttled neck and plastered his face to the window beside him, hoping for a closer look at the hitherto elusive wild fowl. Though most of the flock — which the ex-villain's extensive (one might say obsessive) research had said would be most properly called a rafter, not a flock — had already moved onto the road or off into the woods, three stragglers were racing toward them at top speed, which that same research had claimed could be as fast as 25 miles per hour. In a car, such speeds might feel like a crawl, but when it was a running critter that stood about three feet tall and weighed in the vicinity of twenty pounds or more, it seemed considerably faster.

"They're coming right at us!" Megamind shrieked, suddenly sure he was about to witness the kind of avian stampede Wayne had mentioned and just as suddenly unsure that it was such a good idea. If the things ran headlong into a stopped car...

Two of the birds dashed in front of the car, mere inches from the grill, while the third — which looked as if it was about to broadside them — suddenly appeared to bounce, then hopped onto the car's hood and launched itself toward the woods, its huge wings spread wide. It landed at the edge of the underbrush, joining the other two just before all of them swiftly disappeared in the tangled shrubbery beneath the trees.

"Wait!" the alien cried when Roxanne got the car moving again. "I barely had a chance to see them...!"

"It's raining, hon, we can't go after them," she pointed out most reasonably, not surprised when he started to pout. "Look, considering the weather, I think we're lucky to have spotted any at all. I don't imagine they like standing out in heavy rain any more than you do. But we know they're around now, and we know they're active, _and _we know they have to eat. Maybe if it does clear off later like they're predicting, we'll see more. They'll probably want to come out to find food if they've been lying low during the heavy rain."

It never failed to amuse her, how quickly Megamind could go from pouting to positive. "Do you think so?" he asked, his mood instantly perking. "Yes, that would make sense, wouldn't it? I'd imagine some of the farms we've driven past would be perfect places to look, they have both ready sources of food and shelter. Did you bring your camera?"

She grinned. "Always. With you around, I never know when I'm going to come across a moment that's too priceless to miss."

He frowned, demonstrating that his emotional pendulum could swing just as rapidly in either direction. "You aren't planning to use any of that to embarrass me in front of Minion or sell it to the media, are you?" His tone promised dire consequences.

But Roxanne merely laughed. "Oh, c'mon, you know I have professional ethics! If I don't want the paparazzi pulling stunts like that on me, I can't very well do it to someone else! I'm not a hypocrite, after all. And I don't think you have to worry about Minion seeing any of this. Even if some of it might look a little silly, you know he wouldn't tease you for it — much. He's your best friend. Friends do that to one another, sometimes, and he knows if he takes it too far, you'll just turn around and find a way to get even. You guys can be such a pair of kids, sometimes."

Megamind wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or insulted. "Doesn't that bother you?"

But she shook her head. "Not unless you drag me into it when I don't want to be, or let it get way too far out of hand, like with the jello thing back around Easter."

"Hey, he started it!"

"Maybe, but don't you think you carried it just a little bit overboard when you clogged every water pipe in the Lair with lime jello and had the local news thinking that some industrial crooks were secretly dumping chemical waste into Muskegon Bay when you finally flushed it from the plumbing?"

He had the decency to turn a bit lavender, but he also couldn't cover a smirk. "That _was _funny, wasn't it?" he said, both cheeky and abashed.

Roxanne didn't want to encourage him, so she coughed to hide a chuckle. "For you, yes, but not for the company that got accused. If you hadn't offered to do the clean up for them with one of your 'miraculously heroic' gizmos, it would've been pretty unfair, letting them take the blame for your stunt that got out of hand."

Now, he was contrite. "I guess you're right. But I did volunteer willingly, didn't I? You didn't have to push me into it."

"No, I didn't," she agreed, and now smiled because she _did _want to encourage him. "You did the right thing, especially when you told the media that there was no evidence of a chemical dump, just some 'freakish accident' that caused harmless green goo to show up in the bay. You do realize that if you'd had to 'fess up, you'd be calling yourself the freak."

His chagrin deepened along with his color. "I know," he admitted. "And I would've deserved it, it _was _my fault that things got so out of hand. I should've just told the investigators what happened before anyone else got dragged into it."

She leaned over quickly to kiss his cheek, not wanting his mood to sink any lower and completely spoil the excitement he'd been feeling only moments ago. "I'm proud of you for being willing to own up to it. Maybe you should've told them, but then again, maybe the way things were handled was best, all around. The company was cleared of any wrongdoing, your reputation as a hero and reformed criminal wasn't undermined, and things were cleaned up. Next time, maybe you'll think twice before trying to have the last word in these one-upmanship squabbles with Minion. You let it go too far, and you'll wind up back in that same game-playing rut you were stuck in with Wayne."

The blue genius made a spluttering, dismissive sound that was more amused than anything else. "Oh, please," he scoffed, "that would _never _happen! I _like _Minion!" And that was that.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	13. The Storm

XIII

The Storm

Egg Harbor was a pleasant little town, much smaller than Fish Creek but no less charming. After first hearing the name, Megamind had wondered about it — "Does the harbor look like an egg? Or do eggs actually come into port? What kind of eggs? Can they swim?" — and had of course gone looking for answers. Several were boringly mundane — the original settler had found a nest of duck eggs upon landing in the harbor, some early settler considered it egg-shaped, which the alien felt it most definitely was not — but the one most popularly believed was the most colorful. Early fur traders coming into the harbor via large rowboats on a trip from Green Bay to Mackinac Island had made bets as to who would make it to shore first, and in an effort to slow down their competition, someone had started flinging food, a volley of eggs that had gotten so furious, it wound up hitting some witnesses on the shore, dragging them into the battle.

It was an amusing little tale, and even if it wasn't true, it served as a timely reminder to Megamind about his own friendly scuffles with Minion. It had him smiling, his spirits restored before they pulled into the grocer's parking lot.

Things went smoothly in the market, as the couple had learned how best to go about it since Roxanne had moved into the Lair, on those occasions when they had been left to purchase supplies without Minion's assistance. The reporter had to admit that Megamind wasn't as terrible as she'd feared he might be when it came to selecting groceries. Though he had a sweet tooth that few could rival, he also had learned — no doubt through the urging and tutelage of a very patient Minion — that alien genius did not live by sugar alone. While sugars and caffeine could give a jolt of energy and extra oxygen to his huge, oxygen-craving brain, he had learned that proteins and fats provided more long-term sustainable energies, and that certain vegetables and fruits gave boosts to other nutrients that his system used most effectively in supporting both physical and mental activity.

The first time it had happened, Roxanne had been shocked to find her beau nixing some of what she'd considered healthy choices for things that were actually much better. He was truly omnivorous, as his seemingly skinny but actually highly efficient body made maximum use of all he ingested, and he had learned to eschew nothing that was the best source for everything from necessary amino acids to beneficial bacteria and fiber. He still enjoyed his sweets and junk foods, but he knew he functioned best if he also followed a decent base diet.

The biggest problem they faced this time was a remarkable array of naturally and organically produced foods, from the most basic staples to meats and produce and locally made items. With his nose and the resulting boost it gave to his sense of taste, Megamind happily indulged in samples of some of the locally made foods, reaching a particular state of rapture after tasting a bit of a cherry jam made by a small farm-based operation somewhere near the tip of the peninsula.

Remembering the sweet red goo named after an indefinable fruit that he'd had for breakfast on the morning they'd left Metro City, he now understood why there were some fruits he just hadn't ever cared for: he'd never actually tasted the real thing before, either truly fresh or prepared using good natural ingredients. Absurd when it came to cherries, since they were a major product of that part of western Michigan directly across the lake from Door County. He had a feeling that in ultra urban Metro City, most stores stocked what would bring them the highest profit, not what was actually the best available. Why pay extra for traditionally grown fruit fresh from the growers not even a hundred miles away near Traverse Bay when they could make much more money off of cheaper, never given time to ripen on a tree fruit from Mexico or Chile or the west coast? The store here had several varieties of completely natural whole fruit jams other than cherry, and he bought small jars of all of them, just to discover what they were like. The clerk at the checkout told him that they only carried a few of the most popular types the family-owned maker actually produced, and if he was interested in seeing what else was available, he should go to their home and store up near Gill's Rock.

Roxanne made note of this as a possible adventure for another day, and they finished their shopping without further delay. Another band of heavy rain had just passed through, and an announcement on the radio that was playing over the store's sound system warned of an approaching line of storms that looked to be even more severe.

"Maybe we should just head back home," she reflected after they'd loaded their purchases into the car. "They're talking about high winds and lightning and a ton of rain, maybe even a tornado. I'm not sure I want to be driving in that, much less standing out in the open. I'm... not a big fan of being out in severe weather." She admitted that reluctantly, as if it was a major secret she had been hoping to keep hidden.

Megamind didn't quite catch the undertone of fear to her remark. "Would you rather I did the driving?" he asked before they got in. "I'm certainly used to handling vehicles in less than ideal conditions."

Roxanne wanted to say no, but the look on his face — almost pleading, like a kid looking forward to a promised roller coaster ride — made her hesitate. "Do you really want to do this that much?"

He waffled. "Not if it's going to bother you, but... well, yes, I _was_ sort of looking forward to it after hearing one of those women we met last week tell us about a time she went out there in the middle of a storm. It sounded so... _powerful, _so exciting! I've never really had a lot of experience with that in nature — heck, I don't have much experience with nature, period. It's not like you can go out and watch the weather up close when you're in prison, and now whenever we get storms back home, we pretty much just hole up somewhere safe and dry and wait it out. I wanted to see what it feels like, in a place where it would be extra-exciting to watch. But if you don't want to, it's okay, we can just go back home. Maybe this storm _would_ be a little too much, if it gets as bad as they're predicting."

He was being both honest and reasonable, telling her what he wanted and why at the same time he acknowledged her feelings and accepted them as equally legitimate. She was suitably impressed by this demonstration of mature consideration, and couldn't bring herself to flatly say no to his wishes. "Well, why don't we at least drive over there?" she offered as a compromise. "If things get too wild, we can always change our minds and head somewhere safe."

His wide smile was that of a delighted child on Christmas morning, and she happily let him take the wheel.

The drive across the peninsula was wet and windy, and there were definite signs of heavier storms heading in, but there were few people out and about, and Megamind was able to handle the conditions as competently as he had claimed. They had picked up a late lunch to eat in the car in the market's deli, and Roxanne was admittedly glad she hadn't argued with her beau's offer to drive. With the strong, erratic crosswinds hitting the car broadside, she would've been clutching the wheel with both white-knuckled hands and possibly her teeth to keep it from being pushed off the narrow country road.

After watching how deftly Megamind was able to keep the Corvette in its own lane using one hand, she decided that she would never again question his driving skills, or his wiry strength. Granted, he managed to get a bit of his lunch on his shirt and chin when particularly strong gusts hit unexpectedly at an awkward moment, but that was the worst of it.

"Are you sure you don't want to head back?" the brunette asked when they finally made the turn onto the road that accessed the Point. The winds had gotten stronger, and they were heading into a heavily wooded area. Though the forest offered some respite from the battering of the gusts and the rain, she liked neither the wind-tossed trees that loomed and swayed above them like monsters out of an old myth, nor the blackening skies beyond.

But Megamind shook his head, his green eyes dancing with the kind of glee that many would have described as unholy. "It's an adventure!" he enthused. "Isn't that why you became a reporter, for the excitement, the mystery of the unknown?"

She clutched her seatbelt and the handle above the passenger's door, flinching as a clump of leaves came down in front of them, along with some twigs and a small branch. "Well, yeah, I guess — but this is more like the kind of excitement a test pilot would get! I'm _not_ that kind of adrenaline junkie!"

He was honestly confused. "And you agreed to get into a relationship with _me?"_

She chuckled nervously. "I trust you more than I trust Mother Nature, sweetie. You wouldn't ever hurt me, but she's kinda fickle, that way."

His smile faded. "Okay, then, if this is really bothering you, we should go back."

Roxanne's first impulse was to heave a sigh of relief and shout, "Great! Let's!" but she valiantly managed to suppress it. "No, if you're all right, we can keep going. I'll just stay inside the car if I'm too nervous to get out. Besides, if a tornado _does_ suddenly show up, the concrete bunkers they have for restroom facilities there would be safer than being in any car."

"Are you sure?"

She could hear in his voice that he was truly concerned for her, not quite understanding why she was frightened. She nodded, ignoring the way her bangs tickled her eyes, unwilling to loosen her grip, one hand still clutching the aptly called "jesus-handle," the other practically clawed into the side of her seat. "Yeah, I'm sure. I just don't like being out in storms like this; I haven't ever since I was a little girl and got caught in a pretty scary one with nothing for protection but a tent. But maybe after this, I can apply for one of those storm chaser jobs with the Weather Channel." She managed a jittery chuckle and a brave smile.

Megamind returned the smile, and put his right hand on her left where it was clutching at the seat. The reassuring warmth of his fingers prompted her to transfer her grip to his hand, which was vastly more comforting. Though she was unsettled by the worsening storm — a long-standing phobia thanks to a Girl Scout camping trip gone wrong, many years ago — she realized that she had spoken truly: she _did _trust him more than Mother Nature. He would do anything humanly or alienly possible to protect her, and would never knowingly put her in any danger. The strong but not crushing grip of his long fingers was therapeutic, and helped her regain her composure. By the time they arrived at the not surprisingly vacant Point, she was almost calm again, despite two near-misses with falling branches and the disturbing addition of more frequent thunder and lightning to the bad weather mix.

"You stay here," Megamind told her as he pulled the car onto the side of the road near the sturdily-built concrete rest station. "If things get to be too much for you, just head inside and hunker down. I won't be long."

With the engine off, they could hear the noises of the high winds whipping through the trees, the crackles and booms of thunder, and something even deeper and louder, almost like the noise of huge cannons being fired nearby.

That last sound piqued Roxanne's indefatigable curiosity. "What _is _that?" she wondered as he pulled on his borrowed rain jacket and adjusted its fitting straps before heading out into the elements. She'd heard stories of how tornadoes sounded like roaring trains when they were approaching, but this wasn't constant; she could almost feel it shaking the world around them like repeated blasts of heavy weapon fire.

"It's the surf hitting the bluffs," he said after pausing for a moment to examine the noise. "That's incredible!" He sounded thrilled by the very notion.

She looked at him with wide eyes as he resumed putting on the rain gear. "Are you sure it's safe to go out in that?"

He shrugged. "Well, I don't suppose it is, not entirely, but then, neither is doing my job. I'll be careful, love, I promise. I want to see this, but I don't want to die for it."

Roxanne was suddenly struck by how true this was. The job that he had taken on back home was dangerous, even more so as it was something he faced day after day, often not knowing for certain if he was adequately equipped to handle what was being thrown against him until he was in the thick of things. She couldn't very well encourage him in that and still try to talk him out of this. She bit her lip for a moment, then reached a decision. "All right, then, I'm going with you."

"But that's not necessary!" the ex-villain exclaimed as she reached for her own borrowed gear. "You don't have to do this, I won't mind if you stay here."

"Maybe not, but _I'll _mind. I may not be the kind of reporter who enjoys covering things like war zones and hurricanes, but if I can't do this with you there to help, then I've lost a lot of my nerve. I'll be letting the scared little girl who got spooked by a storm at camp when she was nine run the show. I can do this. I _want _to do this!"

Megamind was about to repeat his insistence, then changed his mind, seeing that set, determined look he knew only too well settling onto her face. She wasn't trying to prove herself to him; she was trying to prove herself to herself, and that was something only she could decide. "All right," he submitted as she got into her jacket and pulled up the hood, tightening adjustment straps and drawstrings. "Just be careful, and don't push yourself too hard. I don't want you to get hurt just because you think you need to prove a point."

She accepted that as sound reasoning with a curt nod. When she was ready, they headed out.

From the position they were in near the car, they couldn't quite see the rocky top of the bluffs, but they could easily see the blasts of spray jetting upward along the cliffs as the angry wind-driven waves came pounding in. Each strike brought with it a huge booming sound, the noise of the water crashing into the cave-pocked coves that amplified it to the thunder of heavy artillery. Though the rain had eased off for a moment, the skies were now that strange, sickening greenish-black that usually said the worst was about to come. The wind was still strong, whipping them not only with drops of water but also with grit blown up from the gravel shoulders of the road and little needles of wind-driven debris from the savaged trees and underbrush all around.

They crossed the grassy picnic area with care, as the rain had made the turf slick. When they came to the top of the slope that led down to the bluffs above the coves, they could see the angry thrashing of the anything-but-gentle lake beyond, its teeth fully bared, its lips foaming with the white of breaking waves that crashed one atop the next until they formed the last huge wave that came roaring against the stone, pounding it in unrelenting rage. Under their feet, they could both feel the power of it as the earth itself shuddered and reeled from the punishment of the storm.

It was awe-inspiring, even from that distance, and it made Roxanne shiver.

Megamind felt her reaction through the hands that were clutching his arm. "Why don't you stay here?" he suggested, since the spume from the waves didn't quite reach the top of the slope and that area was at least partially sheltered from the worst of the wind by the break of trees beside it.

The reporter hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I've never seen the lake like this," she admitted breathlessly, thinking how different it was from the usually rather placid body of water she knew so well. "Not up close and personal, anyway, only in news footage."

"Neither have I," he confessed, but with something closer to eagerness. A searingly bright bolt of lightning ripped through the black clouds above them, the delayed sound of its strike only slightly louder than the boom of the surf. Megamind glanced up as a second flash lit the skies, glittering in his eyes like green fire.

When Roxanne shuddered again, unnerved by the seeming nearness of the lightning — which she knew from the delay between flash and thunder was not as close as it seemed — he led her to the large trunk of a long-fallen tree to one side of the slope, not as safe as the shelter of the building near the car but safer and more secure than the taller, still standing trees that were currently at the mercy of the strong wind. "Just hang back up here," he told her, being admirably sensitive about her not-entirely-irrational-under-the-circumstances fear. "I promise I'll only be gone a few minutes, okay?"

She nodded, grateful for the reassuring anchor the thick length of wood provided. "Be careful," she commanded, her concern for him somehow managing to ring clear despite her general anxiety over the storm. The rain was coming down more heavily again, and she was grateful for the loan of the oilskin storm gear.

His smile was as bright as it was cocky. "Of course! I wouldn't be much of a hero if I didn't keep a promise to my own lady, would I?"

Something in his attitude made her smile in spite of herself. She settled herself against the security of the old broken trunk and watched him go.

She knew, rationally, that she didn't have too much to worry about. In spite of the public perception of him as clumsy, lacking a proper sense of balance because of his large head and slender body — which was absurd, since what in him appeared abnormal to a human was perfectly natural for the alien, who had all his species' inborn instincts for the proper balance of his own body — she had seen Megamind somehow manage to navigate the worst disaster sites and most hideously uneven surfaces and come through in one unharmed piece. It didn't always _look _graceful, but the apparent slips and stumbles were maneuvers to avoid ones that would have been far more injurious, even lethal. And given the many adversaries he'd faced and the wild conditions with which he'd dealt during the past two years alone, she knew that unless Mother Nature dropped a tornado on him or hit him with her best blast of lightning, he'd come through this in one piece, too.

Irrationally, though, she was sure that any second now, that lightning bolt would hit and that tornado would drop, frying him first before sucking him up, slamming him back down, and then letting those monstrous waves haul him down onto the rocks below and smash his skull like an eggshell.

She really hated herself for thinking such things, but when one was trying to deal with a decades-old phobia caused by getting caught out in a storm that by comparison had been a mild spring shower, one tended to have a rather fatalistic outlook.

She was relieved, therefore, when true to his word, Megamind carefully made his way down the slope and out onto the rocky bluff-top. He was clearly being as cautious as he could, watching his footing, using large rocks and the trunks and branches of the few trees to help whenever he could. The wind was whipping strongly around him, pulling the oilcloth of his jacket tight about his thin body, but not grabbing on with enough force to knock him off his feet. Finally, after what felt to Roxanne like an infinity of watching him move in slow motion, he was as far out on the rocky promontory as he dared to go. The massive waves continued to send up huge plumes of spray from where they pummeled the rocks below, the wind shrieked, the surf roared, the rain beat down, the ground shook with each blast of the waves, the lightning flared...

...and Megamind _laughed. _ Despite the cacophony of nature, the sound of his laughter somehow rose above it, a sound of strange, wild, unaffected joy. For a moment, Roxanne couldn't help but wonder if he'd lost his mind — but something in her said no. This wasn't the sound of insanity or evil, but the sound of someone reveling in a kind of absolute, unrestrainable, natural freedom he had never before imagined existed. And as he stood there — legs securely braced, facing the wind and the rain, letting it embrace him and whip around him, trying to defeat him without succeeding — the watching reporter could almost see the energy of wind and water and reflected lightning flowing into him, as if he was a receptor for a kind of power ordinary humans could never have embraced without the most fatal of consequences. It was only an illusion, but in that moment, Roxanne wondered if the small blue alien standing out in the storm wasn't perhaps more a part of the Earth itself than the humans who called it their own.

She stared, mesmerized, then swallowed. The storm was violent, yes, raw natural fury that she had quite reasonably feared since she was a girl — but it was beautiful as well, awe-inspiring in its savagery, transcendent in its sheer energy, unbridled freedom made tangible. Despite his alienness, Megamind understood this — or if he didn't, he at least appreciated the excitement, the experience of briefly being a part of something immeasurably greater than himself. She was afraid of it, but at the same time, she felt ashamed of herself for not having the courage to try to face her fears so that she could share in such rare experience.

She was better than that, wasn't she?

Roxanne hadn't realized that she had started to move away from her safe place, drawn inexorably by something she would later have no words to describe, until she saw her laughing lover look toward her in horror, and scream, "Roxanne, _NO!"_

Between the curve of the promontory and the place where Megamind had left her lay the largest cove of the point, and the steepest portion of the gravel-covered slope of the hill. The latter was so wet, water ran between the pebbles like a small river, turning the bare ground below to slick mud, making the gravel surface quite unstable. He saw her begin to slip and stumble forward in the same instant she felt her feet losing their purchase on the more than half-liquid ground. She began to flail, vainly struggling to keep her balance; the harder she fought to regain it, the more quickly she seemed to lose it and rush forward. Ahead, she could see the lip of the precipice coming closer much too fast; the wind screamed, the lightning flashed, she was only a few feet from flying over the edge into the very mouth of the tempest—

—and she was suddenly grabbed around the waist, spun about, and flung, literally _flung_ into the wet and prickly but welcome arms of one of the cedar trees on the promontory, still being battered by the wind and the rain but no longer at their mercy. Moments later, Megamind was there, shielding her from the worst of the elements, shaking like a leaf.

"Why did you _do _that?" he demanded, the veneer of anger not at all covering the deeply frightened worry beneath it; it burned in his eyes like green flares. "You should've told me you wanted to join me, I would've come back and helped you! Didn't you see how slippery the path was when I came down it? I nearly fell on my ass every other step!"

Roxanne shook her head — all of her was shaking, but she managed to get her head to shake just a bit more. "N-no, actually, I d-didn't! I g-guess I was t-too busy being f-f-freaked out b-by the s-storm! I'm s-s-sor—" She didn't get a chance to complete her apology as wet but warm lips silenced her and reassuring arms went around her. With the fragrant support of the cedar branches at her back and sides, she felt weirdly comfortable, the violence of the storm now held at bay.

"Don't apologize," she was told when Megamind lifted his head but did not remove his arms. "It's my job to protect people, especially you. I should've been more sensible from the start; it was selfish of me to want to come out here even after you said you were worried about the storm. I'm sorry."

But she shook her head again, this time without her entire body shaking. When the barrage of the storm-driven surf made the stone beneath them tremble again, she pressed herself more closely into his embrace, but was otherwise remarkably calm. "No, it's not your fault. I spent so many years in therapy, worrying about why I wasn't afraid of you, and I should've spent at least a little of that time dealing with the real old bogeymen like this! You were so excited about this, I just... just wanted to be ready to get over it in a hurry. Guess I took it a little too fast, huh?" The question came out with a shaky laugh, and won her a tighter hug.

"Yeah, I'd say you did," Megamind agreed, his answering laugh also a bit shaky. "Next time you decide to use shock therapy to get over a _phoobia,_ just give me a couple of seconds' warning, okay? It'd permanently ruin my reputation as a hero if I messed up saving my own girlfriend!"

The joke brought a small smile to her face. "We can't have that happening, can we?"

"Never. It's not worth protecting the whole world if I can't protect you." That all-too-serious answer ended with a fierce kiss that carried with it all the energy of the storm still raging, but from which she now felt completely and safely shielded.

When their lips parted and the lightning flashed again, its ripples of light were now ethereally artful, no longer frightening. The cedar tree with its flat, scaly leaves rather than prickly needles was providing some protection and support from the buffeting winds and raging waters from both above and below; between it and Megamind's determination to protect her, she felt completely safe. She even managed a real smile. "It's been a long time since we were out in a rain storm together," she reflected.

His answering smile was crooked. "That one wasn't nearly as bad."

"Really? I kinda thought it was worse."

He was about to point out that there hadn't been anywhere near this sort of violent wind and lightning on that particular night, nor the presence of crashing waves, when he saw her wistful expression and understood. She wasn't referring to the weather. "Maybe it was," he agreed. "But we both survived, didn't we?"

She nodded. "Only with some pretty bad bruising. I know that's how it felt to me."

"Ditto. Do you think we'll ever be able to forget that night?"

She was honest, and looked him straight in the eye as she answered. "No. You don't forget turning points, you shouldn't, even when they were painful. But wounds heal, the pain goes away, and if you learn from the past, you don't have to keep living in it. We've already done that and moved on, haven't we?"

Overhead, the lightning flashed again, and for a moment, she thought she saw something in Megamind's unearthly green eyes that made her feel as if he had just had an epiphany, that some very important decision had suddenly been made. But when the light flickered again, she only saw the gentle smile on the blue face. "Yes, I think we have," he said, his tone one of surprised wonder. "I guess that's what's really most important, remembering our mistakes and learning from them so we never make them again."

"Exactly. Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it. And I for one am _never_ going to make the stupid mistake of thinking I'm as sure-footed as someone who's had a _lot_ more years of practice in getting out of slippery spots than I _ever_ will!"

They both laughed at her puckish observation, then settled together in the embrace of each other and the sheltering cedar tree to wait for the fast-moving storm to pass. Already, they could see much brighter light and a sliver of blue skies to the west, a conquering promise of the peace to come, slicing through the storm-tossed darkness. And though she didn't know why, as she watched that brightness grow, her head happily resting against Megamind's, Roxanne suddenly felt as if she was looking into a window to a very beautiful future.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	14. The Rendezvous

_Author's Note: Only one chapter, this time — my Muse, Dementia, was kind and decided to spare my aching right arm, which is now in a sling for a bit. Don't worry, though: where there's a will there's a way, and Dementia has a lot of will when it comes to this story! There may be a bit more time between chapters, but so long as I don't overdo, the writing will continue. Thanks to all my readers for their patience, and to all my reviewers for their kind comments. Oh, and Dragon's Lover1: I believe you may now be Number Three. ;) Enjoy!_

* * *

XIV

The Rendezvous

Less than twenty minutes later, the storm had passed, rolling off to the east like a grumbling, ill-tempered giant. While it was still in its death throes, flinging the worst of its rain and wind and even a few flecks of hail against the bluffs, Megamind had suggested that they sit on the stone slab through which the cedar tree and another like it had somehow managed to break through and grow. Even though sitting directly on the stone made the vibrations of the waves pummeling the bluffs more noticeable, it was a considerably more stable position, as it gave the raging wind and rain less of a profile to push against.

Feeling vastly more secure in that posture, Roxanne was better able to appreciate the power of the storm, as she felt herself now an observer rather than a victim. When she grumped about leaving her camera back in the car, Megamind laughed, pointing out that she had clearly gotten over the worst of her fear if she was able to gripe about not being able to take pictures of what had frightened her so badly just a short time ago. It was a valid observation that brought a smile to the reporter's face, and the droll admission that if she _had _brought it, the camera probably would've flown off the bluff or been smashed during the unanticipated rescue. After that, they settled down to wait out the remains of the storm, in much better humor.

When the rain had finally ended, the wind continued to blow strongly, though not as viciously as before, and they decided it was time to leave. Climbing back up the slope even at its most gently inclined spot was a challenging and overall ludicrous proposition, since there was still a lot of runoff rain keeping things muddy and slippery. But soon, the danger of slipping and falling into the still angry lake lessened without fresh rain creating an endless flow of water, and the difficulty quickly became a competition. Whenever one would start to make decent progress up the slope, the other would deliberately sabotage it, with both of them winding up right back where they'd started, often on their backsides, hurling harmless threats at each other and inevitably ending in laughter. Finally, when they were both a muddy mess and their borrowed jackets looked as if they'd have to be purchased due to permanent stains, they called an end to their good-humored skirmish and together found a way up the slope and back to the grassy park area.

After cleaning themselves as best they could without the convenience of a shower, they bundled up the soiled jackets, tucked them in with the grocery bags, and used the car's travel blankets to protect the seats before they climbed in and set off again. The storm had left leaves and twigs and some small branches on the road, but nothing large enough to block their way. With the sun out once more, Roxanne felt more herself again, and opted to drive, just to prove to herself that she was over her jitters. It was now around five, late in the afternoon, though sunset was still hours away.

"Well, do you think you're over your fear of storms?" Megamind asked as he wrestled off one of his shoes, opened the passenger's side window, and shook out a few pebbles that had worked their way in during their hillside battle. "Or did this just make it worse?"

"I thought it might've at first," Roxanne admitted, running one hand through her hair, which had managed to get damp and tangled when her hood had fallen back during their rounds of playing King/Queen of the Slope. "And I don't really think I'm over it, but it wasn't as bad as I'd been expecting, either. Nearly falling off the bluff, _that_ was bad, and after that, the storm didn't seem quite so terrifying. Having you there helped, a lot."

He grinned impishly as he tossed the shoe onto the floor and pulled off the other. "All part of the hero service — with certain extra... ah... _benefits, _just for you," he said in his best silky purr. "I'm not sure that I'll ever be half as good at providing reassurance for anyone else."

"You'd better not be!" she warned, laughing. "I don't mind you rescuing other women who might be younger and prettier when they're in real danger, but if you're thinking about looking for a new professional damsel in distress as a publicity stunt, think again!"

Megamind's injured pout was almost as good as his kicked puppy face. "Roxanne, I'm wounded, right to the heart! Not only am I the hero, now, have I _ever _shown the _least _bit of interest in having anyone take your place, in any way?"

She made a show of considering the question. "I don't know, you seemed to be pretty interested in Cleo Matthews when she started filling in for me as a field reporter in April..."

Now, the pout vanished to be replaced by an extravagant roll of his eyes. "Oh, please, I wasn't interested in _her, _I was just curious to see what kind of person your station managers thought could be a suitable replacement for perfection! She's nothing but a skinny blonde _bimboo!"_

"Uh-huh. And why did I see at least a dozen pictures of her on your computer?"

"Because I was making precise scientific measurements to determine whether or not one of her eyes really is bigger than the other. And it is, her left eye is two millimeters wider than her right — it's also 1.4 millimeters higher, and 2.3 millimeters farther from the ridge of her nose. It's no wonder Minion keeps wondering if she was hired because she's a recovering stroke victim, and the station thought it would be kind to hire the handicapped. I've never asked, _is_ she?"

He was so plainly serious, Roxanne's noble efforts to refrain from laughing met with utter failure in a matter of seconds. "Of course she isn't! Honestly, the two of you can be impossible! What did you do when I first showed up on KMCP, do exacting analysis to determine whether or not I slouch because one of my breasts is bigger than the other — no, don't you _dare _answer that!" she ordered as her blue boyfriend opened his mouth to answer. "I slouch sometimes because I have lousy posture when I'm tired, and that's the _only _reason!"

When she was met with silence, she looked away from the road long enough to see Megamind smiling at her in a familiarly charming — and playfully suggestive — manner. "Really, my dear Roxanne, don't you think I already know the answer to _that?"_

Her cheeks and ears suddenly flared red, realizing that she'd stuck both feet in her mouth, all on her own. The swat she aimed in his direction was weak, but not her chuckle. "Okay, I asked for that! And I guess I started it, too — I know you're not interested in anyone else."

"Very true," he agreed. "I've told you a million times, there's no way to improve on perfection!"

Roxanne might have argued with that estimation — especially in her currently bedraggled condition — but she wasn't keen to risk tasting her toes again, so she wisely let him have his way. Being thought of as perfect by one's significant other wasn't too much of a burden to bear, anyway.

The route she'd initially planned to take to return to Sister Bay was the fastest one, via highway 57, but as they were passing through Jacksonport, she spotted a sign out in front of a lakeside restaurant just up ahead, proclaiming that they were having fish boils tonight, beginning in less than fifteen minutes. She remembered then that they would pass several more such places if they stayed on this route. Megamind was currently in the process of putting his shoes back on after stripping off his all but ruined socks, so she made a last-second change of course before he spotted the sign and launched into one of his tirades on the barbarism of boiling poor unsuspecting piscines with onions and potatoes. The turn was a little less smooth than she would've liked, and caused her bent-over boyfriend's big head to smack the passenger's door.

"Hey, look out!" came his shrill protest as he twisted out of his very odd position and sat up straight, rubbing his head. "What was that all about?"

"Sorry, hon," she soothed apologetically. "I guess I took that turn a little too fast. I was just thinking that if we stuck to the highway all the way back, we wouldn't pass any of the farms you thought might be good turkey-spotting areas. I figured this would be a better way to go for that, unless you'd rather just head straight home."

"Oh, no!" he said, eagerly accepting her blithe alibi. "It doesn't make that much of a difference in the length of the trip, and I think you were right about this being a good time, with them wanting to come out to find food after the storm. Excellent idea!" Cheered by the prospect of a second turkey sighting in one day, he completely forgot about his bumped noggin and finished putting on his shoes. He sounded so excited by the possibility, Roxanne hoped they did manage to catch sight of at least a couple of the big birds, or she'd feel like a bit of a heel, using that as a way of explaining the turn that had whacked his head.

The storms had drenched the entire peninsula, though some areas appeared to have been less battered by the high winds. More people were out and about now, if traffic on the highway had been any indication, but the narrower interior roads were still quiet; only occasionally did they encounter another car. After heading due north for a bit, they turned off onto one of the even smaller roads that ran through both farm fields, orchards, and more heavily wooded areas. The road twisted about for a few miles, then came to a flat stretch where the broad, open fields of crops were neatly divided by narrower strips of woodland. One field was split between some low-growing crop and several rows of short orchard trees. It was still several hours until sunset, but the shadows were starting to get a bit longer as the sun started its descent toward the horizon. As the Corvette neared the field to the west of the orchard, strange black shapes moved across it, headed for the first row of trees.

Megamind saw the peculiar shapes, frowning as he tried to make sense of them. "Roxanne, do they have velociraptors in Wisconsin?"

"Not for at least few million years, if they ever did," she quipped rather than ask where _that _had come from.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. Why?"

"Because I can see five or six of them crossing that field."

Roxanne slammed on the brakes. "Are you pulling my leg?" she demanded, nonetheless curious enough to want to see for herself.

"While you're driving?" He wrinkled his blue nose. "I think we've risked our lives enough for one day. Look!"

He pointed to the alfalfa field outside his window. Roxanne leaned down and over to see what he was indicating. Sure enough, perhaps two hundred feet away was a group of large, dark creatures, much smaller than the unrealistically large velociraptors shown in _Jurassic Park, _but startlingly similar in shape and moving in much the same oddly bobbing fashion. As she squinted, trying to make out details, the reporter noticed that their shadows and the bright sunlight were distorting things, making them appear bigger than they actually were. She could also see that within the orchard were even more of their kind, poking around between the rows of trees.

She grinned. "Well, if the scientists who speculate that dinosaurs evolved into birds are right, then maybe you've found some of their descendants. Those are wild turkeys, sweetie, like the ones that almost ran us over earlier. They're probably stuffing themselves silly on cherries that were knocked down by the storms."

The alien's green eyes lit with excitement. "I want to get a closer look," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Not a problem," the brunette told him as she released her own seatbelt to reach behind the seats. "I brought the binoculars out with my camera. They should be right here under these grocery bags..."

"No, no, I want to get closer to them, not just squint at them through overgrown glasses!"

"I don't know if you can," she was almost sorry to say as she continued to pull out her optical equipment. "They'll probably run off if you get too close."

"The fox didn't," was his ever-so-logical pronouncement.

She chuckled. "Maybe not, but that was just one young fox, from what you told me. It probably didn't know any better. This looks like a flock of full-grown adults. They might be afraid if you came too close."

"It's called a rafter," Megamind corrected with a sniff. "And maybe they wouldn't be afraid of me. _You _never were, after all." The ex-villain sounded undecided as to whether he should feel proud or annoyed over what he'd just said.

Roxanne merely smiled. "Ah, but I was on to you from the start — even before I knew it. If you want to try, go right ahead. But I think I'll hang back here with my camera. One person might not bother them, but two could make 'em nervous. Besides, the event should be recorded for posterity: the first contact between turkey and alien in history! With both sides alive and uncooked, of course."

Her encouragement, such as it was, buoyed his spirits again. Now with her camera out and ready, Roxanne switched off the car's engine. "Try not to make any loud noises or sudden movements," she suggested as her beau was about to open his door. When the green eyes glanced at her over one slender shoulder, puzzled, she explained. "My dad used to hunt, I heard a lot of stories about what you should and shouldn't do in the field when he was complaining about the guys he went hunting with being incompetent jerks. Go on already, you don't need to waste time listening to me lecture!" She made shooing motions with one hand, urging him to get moving before the opportunity was lost.

Grinning, Megamind followed her instructions. Opening the door ever so carefully, he stepped out, one leg at a time, gingerly placing each foot precisely, so as to avoid any noisy crunch of gravel.

The birds — those still ambling across the field and the ones in the cherry orchard — gave no sign that they noticed.

Once he was out, he left the door open rather than risk making noise by closing it. He fairly tiptoed onto the weedy grasses beyond the pebbled shoulder, then paused as he came to a drainage ditch that ran parallel to the road. It was half-filled with rainwater, so with exaggerated care, he stepped across it, stretching his lanky legs like a cartoon stork attempting to cover in one step a distance just a little too long for his stride. He wobbled for a moment, one foot on each side, his eyes wide with the horror of an impending slip on the wet grasses, then sighed with relief as he managed to pull himself across the swale, still standing and reasonably stable. With the crisis narrowly averted, he steadied himself and continued on.

The turkeys still didn't appear to notice, or care, that he was there.

Made confident by his success thus far — never mind that "thus far" covered perhaps ten feet, tops — Megamind continued his stalk across the field. It was rather an amusing thing to watch, Roxanne decided while she captured the historic event on video. At this point in its development, alfalfa didn't keep itself in neat little rows that one could easily step between; its mature upper growth formed a sort of huge and springy tangle that only horses and cows and creatures armed with sharp hoofs — or the splayed, claw-tipped feet of long-legged birds like turkeys — could navigate with any ease whatsoever. Not only did Megamind's big blue head and thin blue arms stand out against the largely green background of the field, his need to move with exaggerated mincing steps, trying to keep his legs from becoming hopelessly stuck in the living spider-web, was both obvious and hilarious. From her vantage, now sitting on the edge of the passenger's seat in the car, Roxanne found herself stuffing one fist into her mouth to keep from laughing aloud, which would certainly irritate her boyfriend and give the turkeys an excuse to leave.

To his credit, however, the slender alien managed to cover more than half the distance before any of the big birds noticed, or bothered to notice. He'd gotten one foot caught in a particularly tight knot of alfalfa and had needed to flail his arms to save himself from falling face first into it. The motion got the attention of one the birds moving toward the orchard. It stopped, raised its head, and looked in Megamind's direction. He saw it, and froze. Bird and alien simply stood there for several moments, the green eyes wide and awed, the black ones beady and curious.

The "standoff" ended with the bird blinking first — or rather, it cocked its wrinkly head, stretched its long neck, and gave a peculiar sound, something like a popping cluck and a low trill. In response, other heads came up, both from the turkeys in the field and in the orchard. The same noises came from some of the other birds as those in the orchard whose attention had been piqued moved to the edge of the field. Megamind, still motionless, now found himself the object of attention for ten pairs of beady black eyes.

He blinked at them, delighted and fascinated; they blinked at him, seemingly puzzled and curious.

He took a step forward, and their eyes followed him.

He took a step to the right, and their heads and eyes followed him.

He took a step to the left, and their heads and eyes followed him again.

This was great! They were showing signs of a classic scientific method type of thinking. Initiate action, observe reaction. Make test, study results. Perhaps these birds were as intelligent as the articles he'd read had claimed.

He took another step forward. _They _took a step forward.

Interesting. Imitation, or perhaps an attempt to communicate?

He took another step forward. They took _two _steps forward.

_Or..._

He stepped sideways. They took three steps forward. Toward him.

Uh-oh.

What was it Roxanne had said, about turkeys being the descendants of velociraptors?

He swallowed. She could hear it all the way back at the car.

He took a big step backward, one foot catching in the alfalfa, stumbling slightly. They took yet another step forward, and kept on stepping. Faster. And faster. _Definitely _toward him.

oh,no

With a yelp, Megamind spun about, suddenly not as thrilled with his notion of getting close to these critters. He remembered something he'd read about turkeys and literal pecking orders and how they would apply that treatment to humans, and now, the notion of getting back into the safety of the car seemed like a truly excellent plan.

The alfalfa, however, had other ideas. As he turned to put some distance between himself and the trotting turkeys, his legs and feet tangled with the almost knee-high forage plants. The alien tried to pull himself free to run, but only ended up compounding the problem, which came to an end as he pitched forward into the alfalfa, loosing a mighty, totally undignified shriek.

Roxanne was finding it _very _hard to keep from doubling over with laughter. Especially when out in the field, her blue hero's voice came shrilling, "Roxanne, they're coming after me! For the love of _God, helllllllppp!"_

He sounded truly frightened, which, between the entangling nature of the plants and his virtually complete lack of experience with critters in the wild was completely understandable. His girlfriend, however, wasn't sure what she could do, since she wasn't exactly close and the alfalfa would be as much of a problem for her to navigate as it was for Megamind — possibly even more, since she was not in as good as shape as he was, nor as inhumanly nimble. She was nothing if not resourceful, however, so even as she kept the camera aimed at the goings-on in the field, she looked around the shoulder for rocks, empty cans, anything she might use to throw at the birds and get them to scatter. She didn't have a professional pitcher's arm, but she knew how to use a sling, and one of the plastic grocery bags would serve admirably, with proper ammunition.

Unfortunately, the litter problem in this area appeared to be non-existent, and the gravel not much bigger than marble-sized chunks. She glanced again at her beau in the field and saw him flailing about to free himself from the web of alfalfa plants with the turkeys — now an even dozen of them — closing in fast. Noise obviously was no deterrent to them, given the sounds Megamind was making as he fought the Alfalfa Battle. She was about to go for the jars of jam and use them for ammunition — with the hope that she didn't hit the poor downed alien — when the big birds reached him. As they ringed him, bending their long necks toward him — looking for all the world like a pack of hoods poking at a cornered victim, sizing him up — Roxanne began groping through the bags behind the seats more frantically, searching for anything she could use as ammo. She heard a few frightened squeaks from Megamind's direction, not ones of pain — not yet — so she just grabbed one of the bags and pulled it out, hoping it had something in it she could use. She was looking down at the contents of the bag when new sounds came from the field.

Roxanne could only find two ways to describe the noises: "What the heck is this?" and "Hey, check this out!" Not words, but clucky, trillish, cackly bird sounds, curious, not threatening. The reporter suspended her search to look back at the field, camera still recording.

From Megamind's point of view, he was surrounded, ringed in by enemies — it felt like dodgeball in the schoolyard all over again. He couldn't get himself out of the dratted tangle of plant life fast enough to escape or even regain his feet before they had him trapped, and lacking any kind of weapon, he reverted to instinct: he curled up, covering his head with his hands, hoping that if he looked small and harmless enough, they'd just go away. That tactic hadn't helped him much over the years, but under the circumstances, it was the best he could do. The attack would come, any second now...

"Brrrrrrrrrt?"

"Dookdookdook drrrrrrrrrpt?"

"Brrrrt brrrrt brrrrt dookdook brrrrt!"

The odd sounds were coming from all around him, as the birds appeared to be discussing his fate. He'd seen punks doing this to their victims, debating how best to carve them up for punishment — God, _why _did he have to even think the word "carve?" — then move in for the kill, or at the very least the beating up.

But when something poked him, first on the shoulder, then on the butt, it wasn't sharp or pointy or painful. It felt like poking, the way one might hesitantly prod something when they weren't quite sure what it was, whether it was safe or not. And the sounds weren't at all threatening; there was something almost... _amused _about them.

Could birds be amused?

Whatever the birds were thinking or feeling, they weren't going away, and their conversation stayed at the same curious and nonthreatening level. Finally, realizing that he could be curled up here for hours if something didn't change the status quo — _not _a prospect he relished — Megamind loosened his tightly huddled stance to lift his head just enough to crack one eye and have a look at the situation.

"Brrrrrrrrrrt?"

He found himself looking quite closely at the odd face of a turkey, perhaps a foot or so away, its head cocked and black eyes regarding him with either total confusion or curious interest. Another head appeared nearby, wearing a similar look, and he could hear the odd clucks and purrs of their avian conversation all around. When he felt another inquisitive head butt his opposite shoulder, he glanced that way and saw three more heads leaning toward him, little black eyes inspecting him closely as the birds continued to cluck and thrum to each other. On the whole, they seemed vastly more curious than aggressive.

_Okay, _he told himself, _time to decide._ Either he could continue crouching there like a big-headed blue lump until the turkeys lost interest in him — risking serious damage to his public image, not to mention his ego, if people drove by and spotted the Defender of Metro City sniveling in the face of a bunch of birds — or he could move, get up, and either figure out what they were up to or get the hell out of there. The question was which would be worse, a potential bruise to his ego or the possibility of multiple bruises to his body.

"Hey, hon, are you okay?" Roxanne's concerned voice came floating over from the roadside.

He sighed. And there was the ego bruise of looking like a total wimp in front of his girlfriend to be considered, too. In the end, looking back on his twenty years of losing to Metro Man, he knew which would take less time to heal. "I'm fine," he called back, causing the turkeys to draw back just a bit, heads bobbing. Taking a deep breath, Megamind made his decision and slowly started disentangling himself from the alfalfa, preparing to stand.

The birds started clucking and trilling more vigorously as he very cautiously plucked his limbs free of the vegetation and got his feet under him again. Once he was upright, they moved a bit closer to him, heads bobbing and necks stretching and beaks poking about, not attacking but simply investigating. He noticed only then that all of the birds lacked the weird fleshy bits and red markings that so many people considered the "proper" turkey face, nor were they quite as large as the group that had run in front of their car earlier in the day. This was a flock of hens, not toms, and there was apparently something about him that intrigued them.

After a minute or so of being checked out by the feathered ladies, he tried to take a step back toward the road. That seemed to stir them up a bit, not in an aggressive way, but with clucking and trilling and another sound that could only be described as a putting noise. When he stopped moving, they quieted a little, but did not stop. One of the hens came up behind him and nudged him in the butt, making him take another step forward. The sounds picked up again, and continued when he took another step, then another. Going slowly, taking care not to get tripped either by the birds or the alfalfa, Megamind kept moving toward the road, one step at a time.

His continued movement appeared to excite them for some reason, as the clucking and putting got louder. Several of the hens moved out in front of him, not trying to trip him but walking ahead of him, taking the point in the same direction. The one most directly before him began to vocalize up a storm, which seemed to irritate those on either side of it. The two pecked at the middle bird repeatedly, until she finally had enough of the mistreatment and went flapping off into the orchard. One of the two that had driven her off took her place, putting and clucking loudly, bobbing head held high, until the other bird and two more who came in from the sides laid into her, driving her off. This strange squabbling kept up until finally, they came close enough to the road for Roxanne to fling a small hail of gravel their way, convincing the girls to give up whatever they were trying to accomplish with Megamind and head off into the safety of the orchard. Some of the noises they made now were distinctly irritated and angry, but a second shower of gravel convinced them to retreat.

When he reached the drainage ditch and carefully made his way across it, the alien could see Roxanne leaning against the hood of the car, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "Okay," he surrendered as he approached the car, thinking he understood what was going on. "So I made a fool of myself, getting chased by a gaggle of turkeys. But I _was _right; they _weren't _afraid of me!"

"That's true," she agreed between gasps for air as her laughter subsided. "They were trying to adopt you!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, blinking. "What?"

The reporter was now in better control of her voice, though she was grinning widely, eyes dancing. "That was a flock of hens, right?"

He didn't see her point. "Yes. So?"

"So, it's August, and they're probably all empty nesters, the babies they had in the spring all grown up now. You're the one who's been reading about wild turkeys, lately. Don't you get it?"

He considered what she'd said for a moment or two, then shook his head. "No. Why would they want to adopt me? I don't look anything like a baby turkey — which is called a poult, by the way. I don't have feathers..."

"And neither do the toms, on their heads. You probably don't look or even smell exactly like a human to them, but when toms get excited, their heads change color. Sometimes red, sometimes blue. At least that's what I learned back in the Scouts."

As this sank into his oversized head, Megamind's face purpled. "Are you saying they were trying to _mate_ with me?"

Roxanne couldn't help it; she laughed again. "No, sweetie. I think they were trying to get you to recognize one of them as your mother."

That didn't lessen the color in his cheeks, but it brought a lopsided smile to his face. "My _mother?_ Because I don't have hair and my head is blue?"

She shrugged. "Could be. It happens with female animals sometimes, when they've just recently lost the last of their babies, either because they've grown up or died. Maybe to them, you just looked like a big baby tom who needs a mother."

Megamind pondered this, then sighed. "Great, first I have a mama fish who isn't even female keeping tabs on me, and now I have wild hens wanting to be my mommy. If you recorded this, you will never, I repeat _never_ show this to anyone but the two of us and Minion!"

The blue eyes sparkled. "What, not even to Wayne?" she asked impishly.

He was dead serious. _"Especially _not to Wayne! If he gets the idea that even wild animals think I'm suffering from the lack of a mother figure in my life, he'll try to foist _his _mother on me! Would _you _want Lady Scott pushed on you as a substitute mother figure?"

Roxanne shook her head at once, remembering a time when Wayne _had_ attempted that with her, after discovering the poor relationship she had with her divorced parents. "Not for all the money in the world. I won't show Wayne or even tell him about this, I promise, not unless you ask me to. I wouldn't wish an afternoon with Lady Scott on my own worst enemy!"

"And who would that be, these days?" her beau wondered as she set aside her makeshift sling and returned her camera to its case.

Her smile was odd. "I promised I wouldn't even say his name for the rest of our trip," she pointed out. Which was all the answer Megamind needed. The less said or even thought about Stewart Mitchell, the better.

* * *

They couldn't have known that at that very moment, back in Metro City, an increasingly frustrated Stewart Mitchell had just finished a conversation with one Martin Nowicki, the cameraman who had been Hal's permanent replacement. He and Roxanne had gotten along very well, partly because he was a genuinely nice person, and partly because being a gay man in a long-term, very committed relationship, he was not interested in Roxanne in any way but as a friend and co-worker and never would be (which, after the very creepy and eventually genuinely evil Hal, was a considerable relief and reassurance to Roxanne). When she had been promoted into the new position as an in-depth reporter and feature interviewer, Roxanne had asked to continue her working relationship with Marty. Given his own designs on the woman, Mitchell had considered Marty an excellent choice, since he would never present any possible competition, and had agreed to it.

After Roxanne had blown up in his face, Mitchell's first reactions had been entirely angry, toward her and anyone even remotely associated with her. When Jack Kincaid, the head of the station, had suspended him, pending a full investigation into allegations of sexual harassment, Mitchell had regretted his own foolishness in assuming that he'd had enough time to make Roxanne see the error of her ways. He simply hadn't been directly involved with her long enough for her to understand on her own that she'd been wasting her time with that blue freak and should instead take a chance with the obviously superior choice: a _real _man, namely himself. His timing had clearly been off, and he'd made a bad choice in trying to force her to stay rather than continue cajoling her after she'd refused to take her vacation with him. He could've waited; after all, things were never going to change. Megamind would always be a skinny alien _thing, _an ex-convict without the proper kind of resources and wealth that someone like Roxanne should enjoy, while he, Stewart Mitchell, would always be a person with means and options that would be forever denied the blue creature because when all was said and done, he wasn't even human.

Why a sharp cookie like Roxanne Ritchi hadn't already seen this was beyond him, but since she hadn't, he should've bided his time and waited a little longer before presenting her with plans that she couldn't yet appreciate. Still, he didn't believe that it was too late. If he could only talk to her, try to explain to her that he hadn't meant to pressure her _that _way, that he'd just sounded a bit harsh because he'd been confused and maybe a little upset, he knew he could persuade her to end this idea of pressing charges. If she was capable of showing pity to a monster that had kidnapped her and endangered her life on a regular basis for nearly twelve years, she could surely show him some sympathy for having made just one thoughtlessly rash mistake. He firmly believed it.

Trouble was, he couldn't get in touch with her, no matter how hard he tried. He'd done everything he could think of to contact her, but for over a week, all his attempts had dead ended with her voice mail, no matter where he called from, no matter what kind of persuasive messages he left. He was eventually convinced that she'd turned off her phone and was simply letting her voice mail pick up any calls until she returned from wherever she'd gone, so he'd abandoned that approach. He knew there was no way he could try to contact her via Megamind or his ridiculous henchman; even if he knew how to call them, he was quite sure that Roxanne would've told them what had happened at the office, and he had no desire to invite revenge from that crazy blue alien. But he _did _need to talk with her — if not for the sake of the future they might have together, then for the sake of his own endangered job.

Once Kincaid had suspended him, though, word of the reason had spread like wildfire, and he soon found that no one at the station would talk with him, there or elsewhere. The only reason he'd been able to do so with Marty had come about through pure luck. He spotted the cameraman apparently walking home from the station after work and had stopped to offer him a ride. Marty hadn't been happy to see him — like everyone else, he'd no doubt heard the rumors, or had even been given details by Roxanne — and had bluntly refused the lift. When Mitchell tried to tell him that the whole situation at the station was a huge misunderstanding that he honestly wanted to clear up, Marty had said that he wasn't going to play devil's advocate for him, and if Mitchell had any explaining to do, he'd just have to wait until Ms Ritchi came back from Wisconsin to tell her.

Bingo.

Granted, it wasn't much, but it was a lot more specific than "just about anywhere in the world," and it was close. Even though he was in trouble at KMCP, Mitchell still had connections, and he was dead certain that there was no way in hell that Megamind could go for an entire month without causing some kind of trouble, no matter where he was. It was only a matter of time before someone in their bucolic neighboring state reported an incident involving the skinny little blue twerp, and when they did, he'd have his chance.

Yes, indeed. It was only a matter of time before he had his opportunity to work his personal magic, and if things went as they naturally should, the perfect Mrs. Stewart Mitchell would finally be his.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	15. The Rescue

_Author's Note: Thank you to all who have reviewed, and to those who have sent kind wishes concerning the injuries to my arm. Things are slowly improving, though the best healing is minimizing the repetitive motion (aka typing) that I was doing a wee bit too much of, in all the wrong ways. Adjusting my work environment, giving the shoulder extra support in the sling, taking my meds, and doing physical therapy is helping, so the story will continue to progress (whew!). I will also be busy next week with other activities, so if there's a bit of a slowdown then, worry not, it'll just be extra time for my arm to heal._

_Oh, and I'm glad everyone enjoyed the turkeys — and hated the villain! No, Mitchell won't be teaming up with Mrs. Walker from the rock shop, but as the biggest turkey of them all, he will be suitably slow-roasted. The fire will be lit by the end of this chapter — so onward!_

* * *

XV

The Rescue

The weather was beautiful the following day, breezy but not excessively so, and quite warm. The man from whom Megamind had been taking lessons in windsurfing, Jason Leigh, actually lived in the Ephraim area, and had suggested that they hold his fourth and final session, scheduled for that morning, in the waters near his home, along the shore just beyond the busier waters of Eagle Harbor. After the previous afternoon's excitement, Roxanne was in the mood for something a little less nerve-wracking, and had been more than happy to settle on the beach once again and either read or enjoy watching her blue boyfriend practicing. The instructor had helped him order his own equipment for windsurfing with both kite and sail, which had arrived at Leigh's office the day before.

Jason had been right when he'd predicted that the agile alien would pick up the sport very quickly, and having his own gear merely increased his confidence. The winds off the Ephraim shore were perfect that morning, and before long, Megamind was definitely giving his teacher a run for his money when it came to acrobatics, especially using the kites. Though the waters farther out were becoming busy with pleasure boaters — everything from sail to speedboat to kayak and jet skis — the windsurfing could be done in the shallower waters closer to the shore. It was there that the two engaged in a friendly competition of outdoing one another. Their antics and the accompanying laughter were quite noticeable to Roxanne, as well as a number of others who had gathered nearby to watch.

"That's Jason Leigh, isn't it, Neal?" a thirtyish woman who had been taking pictures of a parasailer outside the harbor asked a tall man of about the same age who had just joined her. She pointed to the instructor.

Neal nodded. "Yeah, he tried to teach Rachael's older boy how to windsurf last summer. Leigh's a good teacher, but Sean really sucked. There's not much point in trying to teach any kind of surfing to a kid who's afraid of the water. Do you know if Leigh hired some extra help this year, Liz? The guy in the blue wet suit's pretty good, too."

One of the other spectators, an older man using a video camera, snorted. "I don't think that's a wet suit," he remarked with a good-natured chuckle, which the woman beside him and a couple of older kids with her shared.

Neal, who wore glasses, needlessly shaded his eyes, as the sun was still behind them, not yet glaring too badly off the waters. "Are you sure?" he asked, adjusting his glasses, trying to get a better look.

"He's sure," Liz — the woman with the camera, either his wife or his girlfriend — confirmed. She held up the camera so that he could see the image currently on its display screen, which had been taken using the zoom.

"Holy crap!" the guy exclaimed when he saw the picture, unconcerned by his less than sterling language. He looked back out at the surfers again. "Is that Megamind?"

One of the kids, a boy of about twelve, rolled his eyes. "Are there any other blue-skinned people on the planet?" he quipped.

"I've heard of a few, Billy," the oldest man said matter-of-factly, "though I don't think any of 'em live in this part of the world, and they all have ordinary sized heads and hair. I didn't know he came around these parts, though."

"He's on vacation," Roxanne put in, amused by the discussion, which was not at all unfriendly.

The oldest woman glanced at her. "Oh, have you met him before?"

The reporter's smile was wry. "You might say so. We sort of worked together for a long time, but we've been... I suppose you could say 'dating exclusively' for the last two years."

The boy and what appeared to be his older sister looked at her, drawn by her remark. "Are you Roxanne Ritchi?" the girl asked, grinning when the brunette nodded. "Awesome! I've been telling Billy that this isn't such a lame place for a vacation whenever we come up to visit Gram and Gramps, but he never listens. He thinks anyone with even half an ounce of cool in 'em would always pick someplace like Disney World or Las Vegas or L.A." She elbowed the boy, snickering. "Gonna admit you're wrong _now, _twerp face?"

Roxanne chuckled at the sibling byplay when Billy shoved the girl back, face red with embarrassment. "Well, it's nice to know that we have at least half an ounce of cool in us. Though I have to confess, we didn't pick this area for our vacation, a friend made us an offer we couldn't refuse. Don't feel too bad, Billy, Megamind didn't think he'd be able to last more than two days up here without getting bored out of his skull. But we've both been having a great time." She nodded to her beau, who was beginning his turn of the friendly competition. "I think you can see how he's changed his mind."

"Has he been windsurfing for a long time?" Liz asked as she adjusted the zoom on her camera.

The question first elicited a cough. "Ah... no," Roxanne had to admit, hoping this didn't somehow wind up getting back to her beau and go right to his head. "This is his fourth lesson." When all of the others looked from her to him and back again, incredulous, she laughed. "What can I say, he's got the biggest brain on the planet, he's a _very _fast learner when he wants to be, his job can be very physically demanding, and his best friend is a fish."

That won chuckles from most of the others, though the older woman looked puzzled. "Is that really true?" she wondered, then put one hand over her mouth, realizing that she might be either prying or insulting. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. My family's had a little place up here since my grandparents' time, and we know that when famous people come here, it's to kick back and relax, not get recognized by everyone and have people poking into their business everywhere they go."

The reporter accepted the apology, understanding perfectly. "That's why we came here, but we knew pretty well before we arrived that we wouldn't be able to be ourselves and not get noticed. We don't mind, so long as nobody makes a fuss, and so far, almost everyone's been very polite. But I don't consider your question rude, or prying. A lot of people have a hard time believing that Minion really _is _a fish, but he is, just a very intelligent fish with a very capable robot body that he lives in most of the time. He's part of why Megamind wanted to learn windsurfing. Minion can swim much faster than Megamind ever could, and this would be a way for them both to be in the water and keep up with one another, without the danger of motors being involved. He just never had a chance to learn, until now."

The older man nodded. "This is a good place to pick up water sports. One of our granddaughters has been learning to water ski since the family came up to visit last Saturday." He indicated one of the speedboats that had stopped farther away from the shore, where a brown-haired girl of perhaps nine was waving vigorously while her father was getting things set up for skiing. "Steffie's been crazy about it ever since she saw some championship competition, and she decided she just _has _to learn."

The grandmother waved back, though her expression was nervous. "I hope she doesn't throw off her life vest again," she said, worried.

The teen girl made an exasperated noise. "C'mon, Gram, you know Steffie's a good swimmer, and it's not like this is out in the middle of the ocean! Even if she takes a flop, she won't have to tread water for more'n a minute before someone picks her up again."

"It's against the law, Melissa," Gram said firmly. "It's for her own safety."

Both of the grandchildren made faces and noises of disgust over such silly restrictions. Roxanne wisely didn't say it, but it made her think of Megamind and his arguments about wearing seatbelts. He didn't like them, and he didn't use one in the Invisible Car, even after Roxanne insisted he install them for her use, not his. But so much of his work often involved rescuing people who had ignored safety laws and regulations that he had come to understand that as a heroic figure, he needed to set a better example, especially for impressionable children. So while he could get away with not wearing a seatbelt in an invisible vehicle, he had to be more careful when in Roxanne's Corvette or any other ordinary car where he might be seen. He still complained about the way it irritated his neck when he didn't have the protection of his leather collars, but at least he didn't argue about it anymore. Not very often, anyway.

A number of other people had gathered along the shore to watch the impromptu competition. Roxanne didn't know whether or not they recognized the participants, but nothing she heard was at all negative; they actually seemed to be enjoying the little "show." In the waters beyond the two windsurfers, Steffie and her parents were just about ready to begin her skiing practice, waiting only for a kayaker and a pair of jet skiers to clear the area.

When the boat started its first run and the girl came up on her skis behind it, Gram asked Gramps, "Is she wearing her life jacket, Eric?"

Gramps didn't answer instantly, as he was busy recording her practice, peering through the camera's viewfinder. "Looks like it," he said with a shrug. "Stop, worrying, Lottie, Kim and Ray won't let her do anything foolish."

Gram wasn't convinced. Vaguely, her mind more fully focused on the pair of windsurfers, Roxanne wondered if Gram wasn't a typical suspicious mother-in-law. She'd seen the type, especially when it was a son-in-law who allowed the grandkids to do things of which their wife's mother did not approve. The boat was far enough from the windsurfers so that the ripples caused by its wake weren't too huge to handle, though Megamind's first unexpected encounter with one did cause him to make a mistake and wind up in the water. He surfaced quickly and was laughing when Jason gave him a good humored scolding for cockiness. When the boat came back again, towing Steffie behind it at a greater speed than before, the instructor used the opportunity and the even bigger ripples of the wake to show his student how best to cope with them.

At the end of the speedboat's second pass, it stopped for a minute near the harbor. Roxanne, watching her beau practicing what he had just been taught in the wash from the pair of jet skiers now darting about in what looked like a game of water tag, heard rather than saw Gram nudging her husband. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Why did they stop?"

Gramps shook his head. "She's talking to her mom. Kim probably has some pointers for her. That's part of why she's out there, to watch Steffie, look for problems, give tips. Stop worrying so much, she's doing fine."

"Yeah, Gram, chill," Billy piped up. "You're the one who said Steffie was a fish outta water when she tried dance class. Well, now she's a fish _in _water!"

Roxanne couldn't help but smile at the boy's little joke, thinking of Minion and the few times she'd seen him able to swim in the part of Muskegon Bay that Megamind had managed to clean up properly as he tested various pollution control systems. Though he still hadn't quite perfected one that could be used on a large enough scale to clean more than a quarter of the bay's water, Minion had been delighted by the freedom when he went out to personally test the results of the experiments. Though he was used to life in his cybernetic suits and enjoyed the dexterity and freedom they gave him on land, he spent most of his time out of his most natural environment, wide open waters, and was thrilled whenever he was able to enjoy them again, even briefly. Some people were like that, too, more at home on or in water than on land, and perhaps young Steffie was one of those souls.

Farther out, beyond the area where the waterskier had been practicing, the pair of what looked like college-age young men on the jet skis caught the attention of three like-aged young women on a small sailboat even farther from shore. The girls had dropped the sail to talk to the boys, and were plainly entertained when the pair started to show off their skills for them. Just like strutting toms, Roxanne thought, exceptionally amused after the events of yesterday.

Smiling, she turned her attention back to the blue alien the turkey hens had tried to adopt, and saw that Megamind had traded the kite equipment for the regular sail as he worked on his skills at managing unexpected wash from larger or faster water vehicles. The pair of jet skiers were providing plenty for him to practice upon, though when Steffie's speedboat passed by again, even faster than before, the wash was much stronger. He handled it very well.

Though Roxanne was pleased by what she saw, Gram was less happy with what she was watching. "She took off her life vest again," the older woman complained of her granddaughter as she and the boat streaked by.

"That's because she's using the wakeboard this time, Gram," Melissa pointed out. "It works better without the vest because of the speed."

That was at best a poor excuse, as far as the older woman was concerned. "Then she shouldn't be using it! She's much too young and too new to this — and that boat isn't even properly equipped for that kind of skiing! Whatever possessed Kim to allow it? It's all Ray's doing, I've always said he's too reckless...!"

Definitely son-in-law, Roxanne decided. Gramps, however, didn't appear to share his wife's pessimistic opinion. "He's no more reckless than I was at that age, Lottie, and I seem to remember you liking it. Besides, it's not a bad idea to let Steffie give it a try so she'll quit badgering them about it. Kim said so last night, and you always said she got her common sense from you."

Gram sniffed. "And she forgets it all the minute Roy gives her that little boy face of his."

The reporter had a nearly impossible time keeping in her laughter at that remark, wondering if Roy was even half as good at that sort of pathetic look as Megamind could be. Her attempt to swallow the laugh came out as a choking sound, which Liz noticed. "Are you all right?" she asked, lowering her camera, concerned.

Roxanne held up one hand to forestall her worry as she swallowed to clear her throat. "Fine, thanks, just a little dry," she said, reaching for her water bottle to cover the little white lie.

"See, Gram, look!" Melissa cried as she pointed to the speedboat, which had made a wide turn some distance to their right and was starting on its way back toward the harbor. "Steffie made it through the whole first run and the turn just fine!"

Roxanne glanced in that direction, curious. Conveniently, she could also see Megamind, much nearer the shore, maneuvering his board into a downwind course in the opposite direction. The angle made him appear as if he were moving directly toward the boat at a fair clip. There was, of course, a more than safe gap between them, so there was no chance at all of a collision.

As the speedboat came their way quite fast, Roxanne saw movement to the left out of the corner of her eye. For a moment, she thought it was Jason, preparing to head after his student, but the loud noise of a motor, distinctly higher-pitched than that of a boat's engine, said otherwise. Never one to ignore her curiosity when it was piqued, the reporter glanced in that direction, started to look away again, then felt her neck pop as her head snapped back again. Though Megamind was in no danger of colliding with the oncoming speedboat, one of the boys showing off on his jet ski definitely was.

"Stop!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, cupping her hands around her mouth to direct the sound. _"Look out!"_

The young man trying to do a stunt for the watching girls on the sailboat was looking back over his shoulder at them, not at where he was going. His path was taking him directly across that of the speedboat, where Steffie's parents were both glancing back at their daughter, perhaps a bit more than they should have been. When Roxanne shouted, all of them heard, but by the time they looked up to see what was happening, it was too late. Neither of the motor-driven water vehicles came equipped with real brakes, nor could they stop on a dime. The youth on the jet ski had only two options: release the throttle and swerve, hoping to avoid the collision, or speed up and hope to move fast enough to avoid being hit. Steffie's father had only one choice: throw the engine into reverse and swerve, with the hope that the jet ski driver didn't choose to change course in the wrong direction.

Fortunately, Roxanne's warning had come soon enough to avoid a terrible collision. Unfortunately, the sudden change of speed and direction caused Steffie to wipe out in such a way that her wakeboard flew up and hit her on the head, hard, knocking her unconscious. Without the lifejacket or any floatation device to keep her afloat, she quickly sank below the surface.

With the surface of the water churned up by the sudden maneuvers of the two vehicles, it was difficult to see where Steffie had gone down. When he looked back and saw the floating board but no sign of his daughter, Ray turned the boat around and started to go back to search — not the best idea, since the underwater blades of the boat's outboard motor could hit the girl without him knowing it. Her family in both the boat and on the shore were freaking out, her parents calling her name, her grandmother screaming for help.

Megamind, who had looked up in time to see the incident when Roxanne had shouted, yelled, "Wait, don't move!" to both Ray and the youth on the jet ski. They, and many others, looked at him — some puzzled, others angry, thinking he was interfering with the rescue attempts — until he let go of his moving board's sail and launched himself into the water, diving straight toward the spot where he had seen Steffie go under. After only a few strokes, he also vanished beneath the choppy waters.

"Someone has to help her!" Gram shrieked, nearly hysterical. "Ray, _do_ something!"

The distraught father, not knowing what else to do, was about to jump into the water himself when Megamind resurfaced, pulling the limp Steffie with him, her head held above the water in a proper rescue position. He swam straight for the shore rather than the boat, as Jason — who as an instructor of water sports had first aid certification as a lifeguard — waved him in. They met in the shallower waters well off shore, where Jason helped carry the girl in as quickly as possible.

"Are you okay?" Roxanne asked her beau when he stepped back to give Jason room to work. Steffie didn't appear to be badly hurt, but there was no telling how much water she'd inhaled.

Megamind nodded, breathing deeply after his exertions. "It's a good thing I saw where she went down or it might've taken too long to find her. The water's still pretty murky from yesterday's storms, the bottom all churned up. It gets _cold _when you're more than a few feet under the surface out there, did you know that?"

Smiling, she put one arm across his slim shoulders and stood close, offering him her body's warmth until the hot sun could provide better. He accepted it with a small shiver and a smile of his own. Anything more that might've been said was interrupted by Steffie's sudden, harsh coughing.

"She'll be okay," Jason said as he held her, sitting up and leaning forward across his arm as she cleared her lungs of water, ready to assist her if needed. "She took a pretty good hit on the head, but it didn't break the skin or crack the skull. She's lucky; it could've been a lot worse."

As Steffie came around, her parents and the jet skier pulled their vehicles to a nearby pier, then came running. "Is she okay?" the negligent youth asked, arriving first and clearly worried. "Jesus, I didn't mean to do that, I — I just wasn't paying attention...!"

"You almost killed my granddaughter!" Gram shrilled, livid. "I should have you arrested...!"

"Then you should have her parents arrested, too," Liz pointed out as the couple in question arrived. "Who gave her permission to be out there without a lifejacket?"

"Stay out of this!" the overwrought grandmother snapped.

"Why should she?" Neal demanded defensively. "It looked to me like the boy here wasn't the only one not paying attention!"

"I think there's more than enough blame to go around," Megamind spoke up, recognizing the sort of counterproductive finger-pointing he saw all too often in his work as Metro City's defender. The combatants started to turn on _him,_ until they saw just who had spoken and the way he was looking back, just daring them to make so much as a peep of protest. "All of you have a point," he said when they fixed him with stares that were surprised, confused, and somewhat hostile — though not, for once, toward him. "I know you may not think of me as the best spokesman for it, but there are rules, and they're there for a reason, usually to protect people from hurting one another. I know the water regulations; I need to in my job, we live on the same lake and people do reckless and stupid things there, too. The girl should've been wearing a life jacket, her parents shouldn't have even let her on the boat without one, and _everyone_ should've been paying attention to where they were going and what they were doing. If you're going to break the rules, then you'd better be prepared to suffer the consequences of your actions — and you'd better hope to God that those consequences don't hurt or kill someone else. I suspect I know that better than almost anyone else on this planet. I spent twenty years in and out of prison because of my bad choices, and I was incredibly lucky to finally have the chance to make things right, to make restitution for the trouble I caused, to straighten out my life, to start doing good for others instead of wasting my life and my gifts. Oh, I was always very careful to never hurt people with the things I did, and yet all it would've taken was one mistake like what nearly happened a few minutes ago. Just one. There's no way you can ever pay restitution for taking another person's life, even by accident. _Never."_

His voice had grown quieter, his tone more grim, his expression saddened with the memory of his misspent past. "Are you serious?" Billy asked, not an accusation but genuine confusion. "Nobody in Metro City _ever _got hurt by any of the stuff you used to do? It looked totally _wicked!"_

"He's serious," Roxanne said for Megamind, giving the blue hero a chance to shake off the memories of his villainous past. "I was center stage for a _lot _of them, and I can say with absolute certainty that he went out of his way to make sure nobody ever got hurt by his plots and schemes. There were a few minor injuries over the years, all people who had plenty of warning to get clear and didn't because they had to come and gawk where they knew they didn't belong. Heck, the few times he accidentally gave me a bruise or a scratch, he treated it as if he'd just shot me with a bazooka at point blank range and had me hauled off to the nearest medical facilities, ASAP. As a matter of fact, the first time we met, he saved my life when someone much worse than him was trying to hurt me."

"Roxanne, really," the ex-villain chided when he'd recovered from his momentary bout with melancholy. "You're going to totally destroy any reputation I have!" He said it with such extravagant exasperation, it brought chuckles to the lips of many of the people who'd gathered to see what was up, a couple of policemen included. "The point is, it's one thing to risk your own neck; it's another thing to risk someone else's, especially through recklessness, and even _more_ especially when you're risking the life of a child you're supposed to be protecting. If you're going to disregard the rules and the laws and go around acting as if they don't apply to you, you'd better be ready to pay the price for your choices. I did, over and over, because I thought it was my destiny, and now, I wish more than anything that I never had. It was stupid — _I _was stupid, I was arrogant, and it nearly cost me everything that really matters in life. This was an accident — maybe one that could've been avoided, but still an accident. Don't make it a habit. You'll regret it, one way or another."

From the expressions on all the watching faces, he had clearly made an impression on his listeners. In the stunned silence that followed, Steffie groaned softly. "Oh, my head...! Wha' happened...?"

Her parents were there at once, worried and relieved, the latter of which was expressed with huge sighs from the rest of her family, and especially the jet skier. Jason smiled. "Just a good whack on the head," he told the girl. "You'll be okay, I think, though we should get you to a doctor, just to be sure. And if you really want to learn how to use a wakeboard the _right _way — and what to do when things go wrong, because they will — I've got a friend who gives instructions and can teach you, _safely,_ with all the right equipment."

"That sounds like a good idea," Ray was quick to agree. "Isn't that right, Kim?"

The girl's mother was nodding, but there was a stricken look on her face. "This was all my fault," she said, tears in her voice. "I'm the one who told Steffie it would be okay to go without the lifejacket, just for a few minutes. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry...!" While her own shocked mother looked on, she hugged her daughter, who had no trouble forgiving her.

Roxanne, seeing that matters were in hand and that maybe the family should be left to deal with the rest of the situation themselves, nudged Megamind. When he looked up, she suggested they collect their things and leave, not with words but with an inquisitive look and a jerk of her head. He agreed with a nod. She headed for the beach chair where she'd been sitting, her things alongside it; as she bent to pick up the bag with her beau's regular clothes and other small things, she heard his cell phone go off.

While she answered it, the blue alien was about to wade out to collect his surfing gear, which the second jet skier had pulled to the pier when he'd followed his buddy to shore, when a call from Kim stopped him. "Mr. Megamind!"

Still turned away from the woman, he made the face that said he would never quite get used to being called that before looking back. "Yes?"

"Thank you for saving my daughter," Kim said, her gratitude plain in her words alone, but all the more visible in her face. "If you hadn't seen her go down...!" She shuddered, thinking of the grim possibility.

Megamind smiled at his most charmingly heroic. "That's part of my job, too," he alibied. "Though I'd really rather not have to do too much of this sort of thing while I'm on vacation, you understand."

She did. "We'll _all_ be more careful from now on, I promise. No more even bending the rules. You're right, it isn't worth risking someone's life — especially not my daughter's."

His smile brightened. "It's nice to know that I actually picked up a little wisdom from all my mistakes." He managed to bring a wan smile to the woman's face, which in itself was a small victory. He was about to resume his trek to the pier when Roxanne called for his attention.

"Hon, it's Minion," she said, holding up his phone. "He _really_ wants to talk to you, right now."

"I'll get your equipment and take it to my place," Jason called after his alien student as Megamind took the phone and moved away from the crowd. He nodded to the instructor, waiting until he was far enough from the others to have a reasonable sense of privacy before speaking.

"What is it, Minion?" he asked as quietly as he could, grateful to Roxanne and one of the two policemen for steering any nosy onlookers away from him.

The piscine's voice sounded concerned. "I hate to interrupt your trip again, sir, but we've got a situation brewing here that I think you need to know about."

The blue face darkened. "Did some new wannabe villain show his ugly face, or did an old one break out of prison?"

"Not exactly either," Minion admitted. "I just finished talking with Marty Nowicki, Ms Roxanne's cameraman. He was thinking of calling her, but he decided it might be better to get in touch with one of us. It seems that he had a little confrontation with Mr. Mitchell yesterday evening."

Now, Megamind scowled. "What did that... vomitous mass want with Marty?"

"He was looking for information, about where Ms Roxanne had gone. He told Mr. Nowicki that he wanted to apologize and explain the misunderstanding to her."

The blue alien made a rude sound of utter disbelief. "Typical sob story. Marty didn't agree to try to contact her, did he?" If so, Megamind would have to reconsider his opinion of the cameraman, who until now he'd actually liked.

"No, sir," Minion assured him. "He told Mr. Mitchell to get lost, but when Mitchell kept pushing and whining and pestering him, Marty told him that he'd have to tell Ms Roxanne his excuses himself, when she got back from Wisconsin. He didn't mean to let that slip," the fish added hastily as the warning sirens went off in his boss's head, "but Mitchell's awfully clever with his manipulating."

"He is," the ex-villain grudgingly admitted, remembering what Roxanne had told him of the things the sleaze had cajoled her into revealing about their private life. "Marty didn't mention anything more specific, did he?"

"No," the ichthyoid replied, certain. "He told me he doesn't know anything more than that she went to Wisconsin, and he only knows _that_ much because Ms Roxanne trusts him and told him before you left. He actually thinks the two of you took the ferry to Milwaukee and might've ultimately been headed for Chicago. It's apparently what the office gossips at KMCP are saying. That's all he said to Mitchell, just that she went to Wisconsin, but once he realized what he'd done, he got worried. He's pretty sure Mr. Mitchell's trying to stalk Ms Roxanne, and he doesn't want him to get away with it. He's really _very_ sorry he even gave him that much to go on."

While Minion explained, Megamind's brain went into hyperdrive. The likelihood of Mitchell finding them quickly was slim with so little to go on, but that it existed at all... His racing thoughts examined the situation, the possible actions and reactions, how this fit into the larger picture — and several things suddenly snapped into focus and aligned like a perfectly arranged pattern of dominoes tipping over and leading to a final, spectacular result. Maybe the tip-off would begin a little sooner than he would've liked, necessitating a few alterations in the planned design, but it just might wind up making the payoff of the grand finale even sweeter.

"It's all right, Minion, I think I know _exactly_ how to handle this. Have you got Sneaker One and Snooper Seven on any special assignments?"

He could hear the fish shake his entire little body. "No, sir. Things have been quiet enough that I haven't needed to send out any of the stealth-equipped brainbots. Mr. Scott thinks they're one of your best inventions, by the way. He said he really would've liked to have had more than one set of eyes back when he was Metro Man, able to follow people and situations without being seen. He and I took the Invisible Car out on patrol last night, just to check things over after the storms passed through — I believe you had them in your area, too."

The green eyes glanced heavenward. "Oh, yes, we did. It wasn't too bad there, was it?"

"Not really. I had to put some of the twitchier brainbots into hibernation until it was over, but there wasn't any serious damage, just a lot of rain and wind and thunder. Mr. Scott and I made the patrol just to reassure the Mayor. I don't think Mr. Scott ever really understood just how smart you are, sir, since when he was Metro Man, he usually just smashed your inventions to take you to prison as quickly as possible. He's really been impressed, now that he's had a chance to see some of them work close up."

The alien genius's mildly arrogant attitude was understandable. "I always thought he underestimated me. It's about time _he_ figured that out. But the Mitchell situation's more important, right now. I want you to get Sneaker One and Snooper Seven started on surveillance of Mitchell in stealth mode, trail him wherever he goes, record whatever he says, watch whatever he does. They're the best when it comes to getting detailed information while invisible without giving themselves away."

Minion hesitated. "Isn't that breaking the law, sir?"

Megamind's answering snort was succinct. "Not if we have reasonable suspicion to believe he intends harm — and all those voice mails and the fact that he leaned on Marty for information is pretty suspicious. Besides, I'm not collecting evidence to be used in court — yet. I just want to know what he's up to so that I can keep him away from Roxanne. He _did _threaten her, and his actions prove that he has no intention of giving up."

Now, his guardian saw his point. "Okay then, sir, I'm on it. Anything else?"

The working of the ex-villain's brain was so lightning-quick, one could fairly hear the thunder rumbling from his ears. "Yes," he drawled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "You've been telling me how Wayne really seems on the level this time, genuinely wants to help out, prove that he can be trusted. Do you honestly believe him?"

The answer was not quite emphatic, but very nearly so. "Yes, sir, _I_ do — though you have to decide that for yourself."

He smirked. "And I have a way for him to take a shot at convincing me. Do you have two working holowatches with images of me and Roxanne programmed in?"

Minion didn't even have to think about it. "Oh, sure, that was one of the first little things I wanted to take care of while you were gone, giving them a complete tune-up and recharge. They all got overworked and pretty beat up during that long haul with the Terror Trio, so I figured that with things nice and quiet for a change, it'd be a good time to do the work, get it done and out of the way before you come back."

Megamind's smirk became a full-blown evil grin. "Excellent! If things stay quiet in Metrocity and Wayne _really_ wants to help, then here's what I'd like the two of you to do..."

* * *

"Okay now, let me see if I've got this straight," Roxanne said as they were driving back to the summer house, the business in Ephraim now squared away. "Stewart Mitchell has given up trying to contact me by phone and is now asking questions of just about anyone who will talk to him to find out where I am."

"It would seem so," Megamind confirmed, glad that he was driving since he didn't want to chance another head whack if the reporter got angry while behind the wheel.

"And he didn't have any luck with the people who actually know, or he was too scared to approach them, so he finally hit up Marty while he was walking home after work, and Marty accidentally confirmed which state we're in."

"Also correct. And Minion assures me, he felt just terrible about it."

"He would. Marty's a nice guy, and Mitchell's a manipulative, underhanded douche bag."

"Excellent assessment."

"Thanks." Her blue eyes narrowed slightly as she again considered what she'd been told. "So you told Minion to set a couple of your invisible brainbots to tail the sleazoid and keep tabs on what he's up to, who he contacts, where he goes, the whole nine yards."

The blue head nodded. "I'd have one climb into bed with him, too, just to creep him out, if I didn't think the poor bot would bring back some sort of vermin or disease to the Lair."

Roxanne shuddered. "Not worth the risk; covert surveillance is less dicey."

"Agreed. Since Wayne's been plugged into the straight and narrow all his life, I had Minion ask him about the legality. It's dancing on the line, but some of the early voice mails were directly threatening, so it could be argued that this is a protective measure to keep him away from you and avoid a potentially dangerous confrontation. Which, for now, it is."

She saw the logic in that, and accepted it. "And to further muddy the waters and throw him off the scent, Wayne is going to fly Minion, with both of them under disguise, to a number of different places around Wisconsin, and deliberately set up newsworthy sightings of the two of us that will almost certainly get picked up by the gossip journalists in Metro City."

"Exactly! You got it in one, Roxanne, which is better than Wayne. I had to run him through the whole thing twice before he got it down correctly."

Her smile was crooked. "Don't tell me: you told him he'd be the one disguised as me, and he didn't like it."

Megamind shrugged innocently. "Well, it just didn't make sense any other way! He's been a close friend of yours for years, whereas he and I have just barely started to get to know each other without all the competition and buggage."

"Baggage."

"Whatever. The point is, he knows _you_ better than Minion does, and Minion knows _me_ well enough to pull off a _very _convincing masquerade. After all, it fooled you, and under exceptionally difficult circumstances!"

Roxanne couldn't disagree with that. She'd been genuinely shocked to discover that the person who had rescued her from the top of Metro Tower during the final battle with Hal hadn't been Megamind himself, but rather Minion doing an extremely convincing acting job under a holographic disguise. He'd done so well that to this day, Roxanne didn't know how she'd failed to notice that the body she'd clung to wasn't thin and leather-clad, but large and furry. Extreme stress and shock was the best explanation she could come up with.

"It _does_ make sense," she said, needing only a moment's reflection before deciding she approved. "I just hope Mitchell doesn't hear rumors about us being here before he sees the other stuff. I wouldn't want him to stop here first."

Her beau was less concerned. "I wouldn't worry about that. For one thing, the nearest television station is in Green Bay, and about the only things I've seen them cover in any depth for this area are the daily weather conditions and some of the cultural events. Apparently the rumor around KMCP is that we were heading for Chicago, so Minion and Wayne are going to Milwaukee first. That's almost certain to get back to Mitchell the quickest, since it's the biggest TV market in the state. It's also the place he can get to the fastest, either by plane or ferry. If he uses the ferry, the bots will keep trailing him, and if he flies, they'll find a way to get a homing tag on him once he's passed the TSA inspection. If they have any indication he's coming here, things can be arranged to either divert him, stop him, or at the very least delay him. Minion and Wayne will take care of it."

She frowned. "But wasn't Minion planning to come up next week? I don't want him to miss out on his vacation because Stewart Mitchell can't take no for an answer. It's not fair! He needs some time to relax, too, and he deserves it."

Megamind's long fingers gripped the wheel tightly, as if refusing to let go of this chance for his friend. "He'll get it, don't worry. If necessary, I'll have Wayne arrange for a sighting of us in Montana or Alaska. By the time Mitchell finishes his wild goose chase, we'll all be back home again."

"And if he _does_ show up here? What then?"

Because he was looking slightly to the left and she was distracted by her own worries, Roxanne couldn't see the strange expression that crept across the alien's long face: half a wickedly secretive smile savoring the imagined sweetness of eventual success, half an anxiously furrowed brow anticipating the inevitable return of the same old pattern of failure. "Then," he said, his deceptively mild tone covering steely determination, "with any luck, he may discover a little surprise or two I'm working on that he _won't_ be expecting."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	16. The Strategy

_Author's Note: My very, very humble thanks to those who have expressed their concern over the state of my arm. It is continuing to improve slowly (and has definitely displayed all the earmarks of an old nemesis, tendinitis, making a comeback), and I am taking care to continue that positive progress. And thanks to all my lovely readers and reviewers, progress is also continuing with the story, as we now begin to reach the home stretch (not the end yet, just the part where all the bits and pieces I've been tossing out will finally come together). I don't know how soon the next chapter will be posted, since I have business that will occupy me for most of next week, but if the Muse demands and the body allows, it may come sooner than I think! Stay tuned!_

* * *

XVI

The Strategy

As the day wore on, Roxanne began to feel the aches and pains of the battering she'd taken during the storm finally begin to manifest — as they often did for her, a full day later. The whirlpool connected to the indoor pool on the lowest level of the Scotts' summer house helped to ease some of the muscle aches, but it couldn't quite get rid of them all. The reappearance of the Stewart Mitchell problem made her very tense, and though she believed that Megamind's plan would work, she couldn't seem to convince her body that this nagging "fight or flight" response wasn't necessary.

For his own part, Megamind did everything he could think of that was within his ability to help ease her aches and pains and tension, since it troubled him to watch her suffer in even the slightest, most insignificant way. Since the start of the second week, they had been making an effort to cook at least one meal every day — actually _cook_ it, as much from scratch as possible, not simply rely on the restaurants and pre-made foods from the stores and things like cold cereal and sandwiches.

It turned out that the ex-villain did actually have a somewhat better grasp of certain kitchen skills than Roxanne. Where she had managed to barely scrape by with a passing grade in the one cooking class she'd been forced to take during junior high, his grasp of chemistry and his skills with things like knives and burners and dissections and exacting measurements gave him a more solid base than she'd ever had. There were some things he vowed he would never try, but others he was willing to attempt, simply out of curiosity. While Roxanne had soaked away some of her worst aches in the warm waters of the jacuzzi, Megamind had set about the long and arduous task of preparing dinner single-handedly. When she came back up to tell him that she was going to nap for a bit, she found him in the great room, puttering away with something on his iPad while the scents of things bubbling away in the kitchen wafted by.

"Italian?" she guessed after sampling the aromas with delicate sniffs.

He shrugged. "If it turns out all right. It's one of the easier cuisines to pull off, and we need to use up some of the bread we bought from the bakery yesterday before it turns into a rock. Are you feeling any better?"

"Some, though I'm thinking I might look into that day spa we passed between here and Ephraim. A good long massage might help get rid of some of the deep muscle tension, and it's one of the places Wayne recommended if we found ourselves overdoing things."

Megamind made a sound that wasn't quite disgruntled. "I hate to admit, but so far, we haven't come across any of his suggestions that were bad. Actually, it sounds like a good idea. We need to take back the things we borrowed from that leather shop in Fish Creek, and since I don't need the services of a _masoor,_ I can take care of that while you take care of yourself."

She grinned. "You just want to go back there to hit the candy shop and lay in a year's supply of fudge."

A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. "An appealing idea — but not very practical. It isn't as good when it's not fresh, or so the person at the shop told me when I asked what secret ingredient they used to make it so delicious. I may have to learn to make it myself, if Minion's not agreeable. Actually," he continued, flipping shut the cover of the iPad when Roxanne came and sat on the back of the couch where he'd been working, "I was thinking that if I had enough time, I might go to a shop in Sturgeon Bay that carries some basic parts for motorcycle repairs. I could put together a temporary replacement for the throttle Wayne obliterated, until the right parts surface, if they ever do. But if you'd rather I didn't..."

Roxanne shook her head, brushing her steam-damp bangs from her eyes. "No, I don't have a problem with it. It's still early enough for the spa to still be open. I'll give them a call and see what kind of openings they have for tomorrow. If they can fit me in, I can go for the whole luxury package instead of just a massage. I don't do that very often, and it feels nice to just kick back and let other people pamper you, for a change."

The green eyes looked up with a doleful expression. "You mean I don't do a very good job of that?" It was almost a whimper.

She smiled, leaning down to kiss first the top of his head, then his lips. "You do a _fantastic _job of pampering me, sweetie, but this kind of pampering is a little different. I know how grossed out you get just seeing commercials of women getting facials."

He shuddered at the reminder. "It looks disgusting — but if you wanted me to, I could do it for you."

She could just imagine him, wearing a hazmat suit to avoid coming into contact with something like a mudpack — or possibly worse, the kind of bizarre chemistry experiment he might attempt to inflict on her as a so-called less gross alternative. "That's sweet of you, but I think we'd both be happier leaving it to the professionals. Besides, there's nothing wrong with me spending a day doing something _I_ want while you spend the day doing things _you_ want. Neither of us will get bored standing around waiting for the other, we both get to do something we enjoy that the other doesn't — it's a win/win situation."

"Are you sure?" He tried not to sound too eager, and was reasonably successful.

Even so, Roxanne caught a bit of that tone in his voice, and understood perfectly. Though she could enjoy riding a motorcycle, she was about as thrilled with the idea of hanging out in an auto parts shop or salvage yard as he was with the notion of even a minute risk of actually seeing a person be subjected to a mudpack. "Positive. I'll go give them a call and see what I can work out for tomorrow before I take that nap. Wake me when supper's ready, okay?" she said as she pushed away from the couch and headed for the bedroom. "By the way, it smells delicious."

Megamind preened. "Of course it does. Would a nose like mine come up with anything less than a gourmet delight?"

"Never," she called back with a smile. She didn't dare add that despite his acute sense of smell, he could sometimes find things like the scent of rocket fuel appealing.

When he was sure she was gone, having heard the bedroom door softly close, Megamind flipped open his iPad again, hoping he hadn't accidentally lost what he'd been in the process of searching for. The parts shop he'd mentioned was easy enough to locate, right on the main highway, but the other place he needed to stop at was a little bit off the beaten path. He'd thought he'd spotted it on the map, he just had to adjust the zoom and — ah, there it was: _Door County Government Center._

He smiled, rather ironically, as he noted the route. It still felt strange, thinking of himself — Megamind, former Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy — willingly seeking out the halls of government and law, not to wreak havoc upon them, but to solicit the help of those within. Well, times changed — and to thwart Stewart Mitchell and put a definitive end to his harassment of Roxanne, he would crawl on all fours, bleeding and penitent, to the very gates of Heaven itself.

* * *

Roxanne woke about twenty minutes before he'd planned to rouse her for dinner — spaghetti bolognese, which he found the easiest version (meaning the least fussy) to prepare, with bread, vegetables fresh from a farm market, and a bottle of a fruit wine from one of the local small vintners. While he finished the preparations, gallantly refusing any help, Roxanne reported her success with the spa, which had had a cancellation for late tomorrow morning. It would give her a full three and a half hours of luxuriating in all the services she wanted. By Megamind's calculations, that would give him more than enough time to complete his own errands and return, so it was deemed a good plan all around.

Just as they were finishing their meal and were debating whether or not dessert should be delayed, another call came from Minion, which they were able to take on a speakerphone set up in the kitchen nook where they'd had their supper. From the piscine's almost smugly delighted tone, things were going very well on his end.

"I didn't expect to hit paydirt so soon," he told them both while they picked at the remains of the meal and savored the last of the wine, "but the more he thought about it, the more Mr. Scott got really excited about the plan and wanted to get things moving, ASAP. I remembered your friend Mr. Schaeffer at the Milwaukee network affiliate, Ms Roxanne, so I called him early this afternoon to set things up for a short interview. I didn't expect him to work things out so quickly, but it's going to air during their ten o'clock newscast tonight. Did you know that he's familiar with Mr. Mitchell?"

Roxanne's eyes went only slightly wider than Megamind's. "No, I didn't. Are they friends?"

Minion's snort was eloquent. "Far from it. It seems that three years ago, Mitchell was working for one of the smaller stations in the Milwaukee market, where Mr. Schaeffer's sister was an associate producer. He tried almost the same thing with her that he did with you and the other young lady at KMCP, only he quit before he could be suspended or fired. She didn't press charges only because he got out of town before she could nail him, and she was just as glad to be rid of him. Mr. Schaeffer was delighted to help out when I explained the situation to him — which I hope is all right, from what I remember of him, I did think he could be trusted."

Megamind glanced at Roxanne, who nodded. "He can," she confirmed. "I know other things he's been privy to that no one has ever heard him breathe a single word about. If I'd known that he knew Mitchell this way, I would've suggested you contact him."

The sigh of relief was quite audible. "Good, then, I'm glad I made the right decision. He had some ideas for how the interview should go, what it should be about. We worked everything out in less than an hour, and Mr. Wayne and I just got back from the taping at the Milwaukee studio."

His ward cocked one eyebrow. "'Mr. Wayne'?" he repeated.

Minion coughed. "Ah...well, yes, he asked me to call him that. I'm sorry, sir, I won't if it bothers you."

The ex-villain's expression was wryly amused. "Oh, no, far be it from to tell you what to call your friends, Minion — so long as the 'mister' part was your idea, not his. Did he manage to handle himself acceptably during the interview?"

The fish answered with what could only be called a sniggle, half-snicker, half-giggle. "Quite acceptably, since he hardly said a word. I think he was too busy blushing once he saw himself looking like Ms Roxanne — _especially _when he heard himself sounding like her. It's a good thing they both have blue eyes, because the image generator is still having some problems that way with anyone's eyes but yours, sir."

The real reporter sniffed. "I just hope he won't be giving me a reputation as some sort of silly blushing fool who can't speak for herself. If I can't talk on camera in a simple chatty two or three minute interview, it won't help my image with the network."

"I think he'll get over it," Minion said confidently. "It's just a little unnerving the first time, seeing and hearing someone else instead of yourself."

"So what was Schaeffer's idea for the interview?" Megamind wondered after sipping the last of his wine.

Now, his sidekick was excited. "Oh, that's the best part, sir! It turns out that starting tomorrow, several big motorcycle clubs in the area are starting a charity ride that begins in Milwaukee, heads down into Illinois, following the Indiana and Kentucky borders to where the Ohio River meets the Mississippi. Then they'll head north again, following the river to St. Louis, after which they'll go up the River Road along the west bank of the Mississippi through Missouri, Iowa, and Minnesota to Minneapolis. They'll continue on up to Duluth, then come back down through western Wisconsin, picking up the river road along the east side of the Mississippi to La Crosse, and finally turn east there, coming through Madison and back to Milwaukee. They're going to be taking their time along the way, stopping for rallies in a bunch of different towns and cities before arriving back in Milwaukee for a big homecoming bash around Labor Day. The interview with 'you' and 'Ms Ritchi' is about how you'll be traveling on the ride, your thoughts about the charity, the biker community, things like that. Because he knows all the cities they'll be going through, Mr. Schaeffer can make arrangements with some of their network affiliates to do additional interviews along the way."

"That sounds like an almost perfect cover," Roxanne said, impressed.

_"Almost_ perfect?" her beau echoed quizzically, wondering how she could find fault with it. He was known to have an interest in motorcycles; the whole biker image suited his public persona very well. If he'd known about this event beforehand, he might've been tempted to beg Roxanne to take the tour as their vacation.

She nodded. "Won't the bikers notice if we're not actually _with_ them?"

His brow furrowed. "That's a good point," he had to agree. "Did one of you consider that, Minion?"

"Mr. Schaeffer did," the ichthyoid confirmed. "He said the ride isn't conducted in one huge group. There _are _several large clubs that like to keep together on the road between stops, but a lot of the bikers take their own routes to make side trips, see the sights, things like that. Sometimes people in the same club don't see one another for days, and people who are part of the charity ride but aren't members of a specific club come and go all the time. It's only important that they check in at certain points on certain days, to be there for the planned rallies and collect their validation for the charity sponsorship. I know how you'd do this, sir. You might hit some of the rallies for fun, but you wouldn't bother with the validation part unless it was for the show, you'd just contribute the money out of your own pocket."

The ex-villain grinned. "Ah, you know me too well, Minion," he chided, teasing. "You're right, that's exactly what I'd do. This really does sound like a perfect plan."

"Almost _too_ perfect," Roxanne observed, examining it for serious flaws. "What if Mitchell tries to follow 'us' or gets someone else to do it for him and discovers we're not even there?"

Minion wasn't worried. "That won't happen, not right away. The interview won't be aired in Milwaukee until ten tonight, and the earliest it'll air in Metro City is on tomorrow morning's news show, after the riders have already set out. Even if he somehow gets wind about the interview tonight, he can't get to Milwaukee instantly. I've checked all the flights between here and there, and everything for tonight is booked solid. That means either he jumps in his car and drives straight through the night, or he waits until the first flight or the first ferry to leave tomorrow morning. No matter what, he won't have any idea where to find you; all he can do is follow the riders to the next stop and look for you there. And because he can't possibly see 'you' until Mr. Wayne and I make another appearance, the next time he'll have a chance to spot 'you' will be in St. Louis. That's where Mr. Schaeffer's making arrangements for the next interview. And because of the meandering route the bikers are taking through Illinois, that won't happen until next week Wednesday."

"Seven days," Megamind approved. "Even if he realizes he's been duped, he'll have to come back and start the search all over again. That should buy us more than a solid week of freedom from worrying about him showing his plastic face."

Roxanne found it difficult to be quite so optimistic, not after all the troubles she'd had with Hal, who with or without superpowers had had all the disturbing charm of a rattlesnake. "But what if he _doesn't_ go? What if he stays home to keep searching, just in case?"

The blue alien snorted, idly running one finger around the rim of his wine glass. "I think you're crediting him with _way_ too much intelligence, my dear. He's devious, but he's not that smart. If he was, he would never have tried pulling this on you in the first place."

"And we should know by tomorrow morning at the latest whether or not he takes the bait," Minion added. "Sneaker and Snooper are watching him like hawks. He's been keeping an eye on all the cities with network affiliates in Wisconsin, he's checking newspapers, he called someone and asked him to try hacking into hotel reservation systems and travel agencies around the state... If he doesn't get caught for illegal activities first, he'll see the interview, don't worry. Mr. Kincaid will let us know tonight exactly when KMCP will show the interview. If the bots on surveillance see that he's not watching, I'll pretend to be one of the friends he's been pestering for information and call him and tell him while the interview's running, just to make sure he sees it."

When the brunette didn't respond to all that encouragement, Megamind studied her worried face. "Don't you believe this will work?" he asked as neutrally as possible.

She remained silent for several heartbeats before answering. "I believe it _can; _I'm just worried that it _won't. _It's what happened today that's bothering me, I think. There were so many people with cameras on the shore who saw you rescue that little girl. What if one of them tries to sell the footage to the media? Or even just posts it on YouTube? Mitchell could see it and decide to come here to check it out."

When Minion said, "Oh, that won't happen, either," just a little bit too readily, Roxanne gave the phone a stern look, then turned that same steely-eyed gaze to her boyfriend.

"What does _that_ mean?" she asked, her tone very no-nonsense.

Megamind squirmed as he considered being evasive, but after all his experiences with concealing unpleasant things from his very sharp-witted girlfriend, he sucked it up and told the truth. "It's a little failsafe program I hacked into their systems a few years before I gave up villainy, after I'd had one too many embarrassing moments of failure at the hands of Metro Man plastered all over the Internet via YouTube. It notifies me whenever something about me is uploaded, isolates it until I have a chance to see it and decide whether or not it's something I feel is in my best interests to have out there. If I don't like it, the program will corrupt the files and make them unviewable, and do the same thing every time anyone tries to upload that file. I put a similar program on most of the other file-sharing services."

When the red flags of indignant outrage began to fly across Roxanne's scowling face, her nervous beau hastened to explain. "I haven't used it in years, I swear! But they're very complex bugs, very deeply embedded, and since trying to remove them could cause major system failures on their servers, I just deactivated them and left them where they are. They're totally harmless; it would take a dozen of the most powerful decrypting supercomputers about a hundred years to break the security I put on 'em, so there's no chance someone else might stumble across them and use them, if they were even lucky enough to find them. After Minion told me what happened with Mitchell tricking Marty into giving him information, I told him to activate the programs again, just in case what you just mentioned should happen. It's really more likely that someone will upload a recording to the Internet than sell it to major media, since it's just not that newsworthy. Rescues like that happen all the time, in much more notable locations."

"And Sir was right to be concerned," Minion piped up while Roxanne was deciding whether or not to allow her displeasure to escalate. "Mr. Mitchell _has_ asked his hacker friend to monitor those websites, looking for just that kind of thing. We haven't gotten any notices of file uploads so far, but if it does happen, we'll at least know about it first and be able to block it, temporarily."

Though she didn't care for such blatantly illegal subterfuge on general principles, Roxanne had to admit that at the moment, having such a failsafe in place was extraordinarily convenient. From his anxious expression and the way his hands were twitching around his empty glass, she could tell that Megamind wasn't lying, that he had considered her reaction to this revelation but was willing to take the heat for it if it meant protecting her. "Okay, I'll let you get away with this on one condition," she said, making it plain that there would be no negotiations on this point. "After this trouble with Mitchell is over, you'll find a way to get rid of those viruses, safely, and you'll _never_ use them again. Am I clear?"

Megamind nodded, his expression calm, though his cheeks purpled faintly. "Perfectly. It was something I'd planned to do, anyway, when I had the time. It realize that it's not the kind of thing a hero should have on his _rezyoomee. _Two rights never make a wrong."

She had to cover her mouth to hide the involuntary chuckle that threatened to escape it in response to his mangling of the old cliche. She could also see that he was sincere, and she accepted his contrition, allowing her burgeoning anger to fizzle away. "Okay, just so we're on the same page with this."

He nodded. "We are." In a small but earnest voice he added, "And thanks for not getting upset about it."

"I considered it," she confessed, softening the sting of her words with a smile. "If I happen to see any of those people who were taking pictures today, I'm going to ask if they'd wait a few weeks before posting them, if they were planning to. I'm sure they'll understand, given the circumstances." She sighed, and let the matter go. "So, Minion, if Mitchell does head off for St. Louis, are you planning to come join us?"

"I'd really love to," the fish admitted, "though I think it'd be best if I waited at least until Monday or Tuesday before I do. That should give us a clearer idea of what Mitchell's up to. I'm crossing my fingers that he takes the bait and tries following on the ferry tomorrow; that way, Sneaker and Snooper can continue following him and report back, no matter where he goes, no matter where we are. If he does, I may be there by Sunday."

His ward frowned. "I hope you don't use that piece of excrement as an excuse to cancel your vacation plans. Even if he does show up here, we can always use ordinary methods of restraint and call the police."

One could hear the piscine's eyes widening. "Wow, sir, does that mean you've decided you've changed your mind about using him for a—"

Megamind's sudden extremely loud and prolonged coughing fit covered whatever Minion had been trying to say. This time, Roxanne didn't even try to hide her laughter. "It's okay, sweetie, I've had a few very... satisfying moments, thinking about what I'd like to do to Stewart Mitchell if he dares to show his face to me again. I've even toyed with the idea of checking out a farm supply store to find some horse gelding equipment and send it to him with instructions for using it on himself, but he'd probably just take it as some kind of twisted compliment and encouragement to keep acting like an ass. If he _does _try to get in my face again, you have my full permission to deck him — but only _after_ I get _my_ shot in, just a mite lower."

She sounded so blithely cheerful about the whole thing, the green eyes blinked, then regarded her with totally smitten delight, leaning toward her, elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in both hands. "I love it when you talk bad," he purred, with a brilliant and deliberately suggestive smile.

Roxanne returned the smile, but waggled one finger in front of his puckered lips in a scolding gesture before pointing at the phone. His smile sagged into a disappointed pout, which was interrupted by Minion continuing the previous conversation. "Anyway," the fish said, either blithely unaware of what was transpiring on their end of the line or deliberately choosing to pretend ignorance, "I don't want to miss out on coming up there unless it just can't be avoided. I'm pretty sure it won't come to that — though it's kinda funny, thinking of _you _calling the police, sir. I — oh, hold on just a sec..."

Through the phone, they could hear an assortment of not very clear noises, which soon ended with one that was very recognizable: Wayne's voice. "...ve got a better idea for how to do this disguise thing, next time. Do you have both of them on the phone at the house right now? Great! Hey, Roxie, Megs, hi, how're you doing? Minion tells me you haven't blown up the house yet!"

Megamind rolled his eyes in perfect exasperation; Roxanne merely grinned. "Hi, Wayne," the latter greeted, "things are just fine. No, we haven't blown up the house or burned it down — why would we? It's really a lovely place."

Wayne waffled a little, chagrined. "Well, I guess it was a pretty lame joke, but I was thinking Megs might've gotten so bored, he'd start working on some experiment and..." He sighed. "Like I said, it was lame, sorry. Is Megs there?"

"Yes, Wayne, I'm here," his former nemesis singsonged back. "No, I'm not bored out of my mind, and I didn't level the house. If I was going to run experiments, I'd be polite and take 'em out to the garage. And speaking of which, what on earth did _you _do to that poor classic Harley out there? Use it for a punching bag?"

Now, the retired hero coughed. "Oh, so you found it, huh?" he said with a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I made a pretty good mess of it, years ago. My mom got it for me when I was eighteen, trying to help me act a little more normal around her friends, since it seems they got nervous seeing me fly around so much of the time. Why walk when you can fly, y'know? If I hadn't been born with muscles, I'd be one flabby mess! Anyway, it was a cool bike, a classic, and she'd had it customized for me, but you know me and anything with an engine that you have to drive. I took it up highway 42 to the top of the peninsula, where there's this _really_ squiggly stretch of road. When I was a teenager, I'd heard some other kids around town say how much fun it was to take it as fast as you could, pedal to the metal, so I thought I'd give it a shot. I don't know how many trees I took out before I dug a trench in the pavement, trying to stop. When I brought the thing back home, Dad said he'd get it fixed up again because it _was _a classic, an investment, but he never did. I've thought about getting it restored myself, but I don't know anything about mechanics, and you can see it needs a... few things replaced."

His ex-rival was astonishingly charitable, since it wasn't often that Wayne admitted to his own problems, fitting in with normal people. "Not too many. The engine is still in good shape, most of what it needs is some metal and frame work and a new throttle. I've been looking into it."

"You have? Hey, you shouldn't be wasting your vacation time, fixing my wreck of a bike..."

"I'm not," Megamind assured him. "I only found it yesterday morning, and I spent a few hours while it was foggy amusing myself, tinkering with it. I was thinking of setting it up with a temporary throttle replacement until a vintage one surfaces, but if you'd rather I didn't..."

"No, no, no problem!" was Wayne's easy reply. "When I went up there to make sure things were ready for you guys, I thought about bringing the bike back with me, to get it restored so I can learn how to use it the _right_ way, but if you're having fun with it, knock yourself out! I'd probably just wipe out again anyway and blow my cover."

"I wasn't planning to keep it for myself, Wayne. I know it doesn't belong to me. But if you want to learn how to ride, I can teach you, _before _you ruin it again or give away the truth about your 'tragic condition.'"

"You can?" The big lug sounded truly touched. "I'd _really_ appreciate it, Megs, thanks. And I can pay you for your work and the parts..."

The ex-villain's glower was even more audible than visible. "I think I can afford it," he said with pointed emphasis, reminding his erstwhile foe just which of them actually had the greater financial assets.

"I guess you can," Wayne conceded, his smile in his voice. "Thanks, little buddy. I owe you one."

Megamind's upper lip twitched, wanting to pull into a sneer of distaste. "If you do, then pay me back right now and _stop calling me that!"_

"Okay, okay!" came the laughing response. "Did Minion tell you two about the interview and the plan Roxie's friend in Milwaukee helped us come up with?"

"Yes," Roxanne replied, giving her boyfriend a few moments to get over his sulk. "It sounds like a perfect plan — which is why I want both of you to be extra careful. It seems like it's always the perfect setups that go haywire."

"Only when you don't have backup contingencies in place," Megamind admitted, shaking off his momentary grump. "I've learned that much from so many years of losing. I'm working on at least one failsafe. All I need is a little time to get everything in place."

"Gonna tell us what it is?" Wayne asked, echoing Roxanne's curiosity.

"Soon, when it's ready. I want to be sure it _can _work first."

"Don't keep us in the dark too long," she suggested, affectionately amused by his determination to shake his old losing ways.

Though he answered with a charming smile, his resolve was evident. "Trust me, Roxanne, you'll be the first to know."

* * *

Around nine the following morning, Minion was happily able to report that not only had Mitchell seen the interview when it was replayed on KMCP's early morning news/talk show, he had taken the bait and swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker. He immediately bought passage on the first high speed ferry leaving for Milwaukee, which would be shortly after ten, and had made reservations for hotel lodgings in every town where the charity ride would stop between Milwaukee and St. Louis. Snooper reported a call he'd made to his hacker friend, telling him to get in touch immediately if he spotted any new reports as to the couple's whereabouts while he himself was on the road.

This inspired Wayne — who had gotten so into the spirit of the whole intrigue that he'd spent the night at the Lair, sacking out briefly in a little back room Megamind occasionally used when he needed to catch a few minutes' rest in the middle of some big project. He came up with the idea of making a few brief home videos of "Megamind and Roxanne" on the road at key points along the ride's planned route, then posting one each day for an appropriate locale ahead of his position, using accounts on the various websites they knew Mitchell's cohort would be monitoring. Minion needed to do some tricky reprogramming of the holowatches to change the scanned clothing images from ordinary casual wear to appropriate biker gear, but with that done, they were able to implement Wayne's idea and begin laying down a trail of video breadcrumbs for Mitchell to follow, slowly leading him farther and farther away from their actual location.

And there were definite advantages to Mitchell's response to the situation. With the sleazebag using his own car and the ferry, the two stealthbots were easily able to follow and track his every move; Sneaker, living up to the name for his little "class" of brainbot, had actually managed to slip into the back seat of his car and take up covert, invisible surveillance from the deck below the rear window, while Snooper did broader surveillance from outside, relaying information about his precise position and routes via the bot's own GPS signal. And to top it all off, the fact that Mitchell had chosen to use his own car — an expensive and status-screaming Mercedes — meant that even if he somehow got wind of Roxanne's true location and wanted to head back, he wasn't going to just hop a plane and fly to Green Bay, since he wouldn't want to abandon his fancy car. The farther south he went, the longer it would take for him to reach Sister Bay, when and if he ever figured out that that was where he needed to be.

With this part of their schemes well underway, the real Roxanne and Megamind were able to go about their day as planned, her in luxurious expert pampering at a very nice, almost Zen-like day spa between Sister Bay and Ephraim, and him off on his various errands farther south and west. They met again that afternoon when he arrived to pick her up, and the reporter was not at all surprised to see another striped bag from the candy shop among a couple of sacks of repair parts for the abused Harley. The near-ruined oilcloth coats from the leather store were now gone, but not, Megamind assured her, because the owners had felt compelled to take them back. He'd paid for them, since they had proved quite useful even under horrible circumstances, and Sunny had offered to get them properly cleaned and repaired for them by the time they returned to the shop with Minion.

And that _would_ happen; the blue hero had no doubt of it. So far, his contingency plan was coming together; it would take the resolution of one last detail to set it in motion. He knew now that it was feasible, and by tomorrow, they'd know whether it would work.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XVII: The Kidnapping_


	17. The Kidnapping

_Author's Note: My most humble and appreciative thanks to all who have written to review and wish me a speedy recovery with my arm. As I will be occupied with business for the next few days and won't have my usual computer available to handle postings, I can't say when the next chapter will be ready. Probably just as well, since it'll give my arm a chance to well and truly heal! So before I depart for the land of computer inadequacy and questionable Internet access (which may prevent me from posting but will at least let me visit the site and collect email!) I leave you for now with this, the most pivotal point in this plot to date. And fear not: it ain't over yet, folks, far from it! Enjoy!_

_DANGER! MAJOR FLUFF & MUSH AHEAD!_

* * *

XVII

The Kidnapping

"Good morning, Ms Ritchi. We meet again."

The low, silky voice whispering directly in her ear stirred Roxanne from a shapeless dream into — she didn't know what. Wakefulness? Another level of dreaming? Some kind of weird hallucination? She tried to open her eyes, but they felt heavy, tired, unwilling. She tried again and managed to crack one open — or she thought she had, because even open, she saw nothing but darkness.

That stirred her even more, the barest edge of panic tickling at the ends of her nerves. She forced her eyes to open this time, and though she still saw only black, she felt something over her eyes: a cloth, by the way the tips of her eyelashes caught it, something tighter than a stray fold of a sheet or a blanket. A sleep mask — or a blindfold?

_Good lord,_ she thought, knowing that she didn't use sleep masks. Was she going to wake up with a bag over her head, tied to a chair, and discover that the real dream had been the past two years?

"M—Mykaal?" she said with an unseemly hitch in her voice, which was itself a breathy whisper. She had started to say "Megamind," but something in her needed the confirmation that she wasn't waking to the same old recurring nightmare of a life she had known for too many years. She reached up to remove whatever was covering her eyes, glad to find her hands unbound, but before she could reach it, familiar slender fingers clad in glove leather wrapped around her wrists, stopping her.

"Ah-ah-ah, Ms Ritchi, no touching! Do you want to spoil everything before we've even started?"

She swallowed, uncertain, confused. It might have been because she was still half-asleep, but when she'd felt the gloved hands close around her wrists, she suddenly felt quite thoroughly awake. She frowned. "Okay, Mykaal," she said firmly, still wanting to hear if he would reject the name, thus proving her fears. "What's this all about?"

She could hear him smile, wickedly, but not evilly. "Oh, surprises, and trust," he replied, still showing no problem with her use of his name, which gave her some reassurance. "You do trust me, don't you, Ms Ritchi?"

"That depends," she admitted, doing her best to sound fearless. "I'm not used to waking up and finding myself blindfolded. That _is _what you did, didn't you? Put a blindfold on me while I was sleeping?"

He chuckled, a low, delicious sound that made her shiver, but not from fear. "After a fashion. You told me that if I ever wanted to kidnap you again, you'd go wherever I wanted, willingly. Did you mean it?"

Silently, she sighed with relief, remembering the day last week when she had given Megamind that promise. Knowing that this was not a dream but some little game he was playing, she made a bit of a show of thinking about it. Then she smiled. "Yes, I meant it. Can I take off the blindfold now?"

"Hmmm." He paid her back for her deliberate hesitance by delaying his answer; she could hear him drumming his fingers against something. "Not just yet. I want the destination to be a surprise, and even if you promise to keep your eyes closed, accidents happen."

Now, Roxanne chuckled. "Well, unless you're just planning to take me downstairs or out into the yard, I'll need to see to get dressed. Though there've been some mornings when I did it half asleep and with my eyes mostly closed, I still needed to open them once in a while."

His voice was close to her ear again — when had he moved? She hadn't heard so much as a whisper of it. "Oh, there are other ways, my dear, I assure you," he purred, and she felt that shiver run down her spine again. Damn, if he kept this up, the only kidnapping that would happen today would be her hauling his butt back into bed and tying him down to have her way with him. "Just tell me what you'd like to wear today, and I'll bring it for you. I'll even help you put it on. Isn't it a good thing that you showered before coming to bed last night?"

She remembered that it had been his suggestion, to make sure she had washed anyway any potential lingering traces of whatever she'd had done to her in the spa. At the time, she'd been amused by his silly squeamishness; now, she realized that he'd had ulterior motives. "Very sneaky," she congratulated with a scolding snicker. "I can see you've planned this down to the last detail, Megamind."

"Why, thank you, Ms Ritchi! I always aim to please — _you,_ that is." She felt warm, lingering kisses placed on the side of her neck, following its curve to her shoulder, and she had to fight to refrain from pulling him down to ravish him.

"If you keep that up, neither of us will be leaving this room for a _very _long time," she warned him, aware that her voice was trembling but not really caring. "Is that what you have in mind?"

He placed one last kiss on her lips, and she could feel him smiling. "No," he ended with a disappointed sigh. "I do have something more... unique planned. Very well, you're right, it's time to get down to business. What would you like me to bring you? The weather forecast is predicting another hot and sunny day."

"I suppose that depends on whatever you've got planned. Casual? Active? Formal? I don't think I brought anything actually formal with me, by the way, just a couple of nice summer dresses, in case we went someplace where I'd want to feel a little more dressed up."

He considered this. "Did you bring the blue and white one Minion made you for your last birthday?"

"The one with the halter neck and the gauzy skirt? Yes, with the weather running on the hot side, I thought it'd be a nice one to have along. It's hanging in the closet, on the right."

"Excellent! It should be much easier to help you with that than with slacks and things."

She snorted. "Yes, and we'd better get this part done fast, or I won't promise I'll keep my hands off you!"

His deep chuckle of "Temptress" drifted back to her even as he moved to the closet. "You said that you would go anywhere I wanted, willingly. Are you going to go back on your word by seducing me?"

"Oh, I wouldn't seduce you to go back on my word," she vowed playfully. "But I've got to admit, you're doing a great job of testing my self-control!"

"Well, in that case, I just might have to tie your hands..."

"No way! I said I'd go without the ropes and the knockout gas, and I meant it. Besides, I doubt that Wayne's parents kept any rope but stuff used for mooring a boat — _not _my idea of comfortable, even just for play. I'll be good, I promise.'' She heard the closet door open, followed by a brief rattle of hangers before the door closed again. "What time _is _it, anyway? I can't see a thing through this blindfold."

"That's because it isn't a blindfold, it's a sleep mask I picked up at that spa you went to yesterday. It's designed to block as much light as possible — which neatly gets around the problem ordinary blindfolds have, letting the person see too much along the sides of their nose if they tilt their head back."

Roxanne tested it by moving her head this way and that, and found that it performed as advertised. "Unless it's one in the morning, it's very effective. Comfortable, too. If you'll bring me my pink underwear — the lace set, not the satin, Minion made it to go with that dress — I can get into it by myself. I do that plenty of mornings when I have to be up before the crack of dawn."

Her beau brought the requested items as she slipped out of her nightgown. "Are you sure? I wouldn't mind helping."

She laughed, taking what he placed into her hands and deftly putting it on. "Yes, and that's just the problem! No, just help me get my dress and my white sandals on straight and bring me a comb, I can manage the rest. Unless I'll need to wear makeup..."

"You _never _need to wear make-up," he stated bluntly, and quite honestly, as he nudged her to raise her arms, then guided the dress over her head and past her shoulders, letting the skirts settle about her waist and hips before zipping the back. "It's like gelding the lily."

"Gilding, sweetie," she corrected with a smile as she took care of fastening the halter bodice at the back of her neck. "Gelding's what I'd like to do to Mitchell, after ripping out his spleen through his nose."

Megamind's chuckle was wicked. "You're such a gentle little thing, Ms Ritchi. It's no wonder I could never make you scream. But let's not ruin the day with thoughts of him — even such entertaining ones as how best to dismember him. I have more pleasant activities in mind."

"And you're planning to leave the house?" She sounded incredulous.

He clicked his tongue. "Mind out of the gutter, my dear. There's more to life than sex."

"Spoilsport."

"Don't pass judgment until you've seen what's in store. Did you say the white sandals?"

"Yes, the ones with the thin ankle straps. They're under the dressing table. Are you sure it isn't the middle of the night? I honestly feel like I could do with another few hours of sleep."

"It's not the middle of the night," he promised as he returned with the shoes, gently guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed before kneeling to help her put them on. "But it _is _early, about a quarter to five."

Roxanne nearly stood up again in reflex shock. "Quarter to five? In the morning? Are you out of your mind?"

Megamind pulled back just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face. "Maybe. I want us to be at our destination at a certain time, and getting up early was the only way to guarantee it. Don't worry, I've made arrangements for you to nap in the car on the way. I may be kidnapping you, but never let it be said that I neglected to consider your comfort!"

"Not recently, anyway," she admitted, relenting. "Okay, that sounds like a good compromise. Is it going to be a long drive?"

"So many questions," he chided as he finished fastening the second sandal, stood up again, and helped her to her feet. "Could you please give Ms Nosy Reporter the morning off? Unless you don't trust me." He had intended the last part to be a joke, but it didn't quite come out that way.

Unable to see but listening closely, Roxanne heard more than the faint note of hurt in his voice; she detected a fine tremor of something like fear, but not fear itself. With the unerring accuracy of pure instinct, her hand managed to find the blue face she could not see, her palm gently cradling his cheek. "I trust you, Mykaal," she said, with more heartfelt sincerity than she had ever used before. "I said I'd go with you willingly, wherever you want. No more questions, I promise."

She heard him take a breath to speak, but her immediate answer came in the form of a soft, grateful kiss. "Thank you," was all he finally said, and that was enough.

He hadn't been joking about making arrangements for her sleeping comfort in the car. The passenger's seat had been fully reclined and covered with light but very soft blankets, the plush, cuddly kind that she loved to snuggle into, no matter how warm the weather. As the sun had yet to rise, the air was still slightly cool, and so the blankets were most welcome. There was also a better pillow than the little travel ones usually in the car, and he'd even found some soothing music to help cover the inevitable road noises.

Once he'd tucked her in, seatbelt in place and door securely closed, he moved to the driver's side, and they were off. Roxanne didn't really expect to be able to get back to sleep, but between the soft music, the warm comfort of the little nest she was snuggled into, and the gentle rocking motions of the car, before they'd made the second turn onto the highway, she had drifted off once more.

* * *

It was the cessation of movement and music that began Roxanne's slow return to wakefulness; it was a gentle touch and a soft voice that completed it. "Time to wake up again, Ms Ritchi," Megamind's velvety tenor announced, his tone pleased but fortunately not seductive. She had no idea just where he'd learned that particular skill with his voice so well, given that she knew he had never had any female friends before her, but it had always had a strong and definite effect on her, even before he'd given up his attempts to be evil. "Sorry to interrupt, you seemed so peaceful, but if we wait too much longer, we'll miss it."

"Miss what?" she asked, yawning and stretching. "Where are we?"

"Ah-ah!" he scolded. "You said no more questions. You'll have your answers in just a minute, anyway."

She felt the upper blanket lifted away, then his touch on her arm, helping her from the car. She shivered slightly as she stood and the cool pre-dawn breeze swept over her bare shoulders. She began to wrap her arms around her torso when the blanket fell into place about her like a shawl, protecting her. "Thanks," she said gratefully, a little surprised by how accurately she was able to find his cheek and kiss it, despite the blindfold. "I didn't think it would be this chilly today."

"That'll change pretty fast, once the sun's up," Megamind felt certain. He led her a few steps from the car, then paused; she heard the door close behind her. "Now, I could lead you to where I want to go, but it would be much easier and safer to carry you."

She was about to protest when she changed her mind. "You're the kidnapper," she said in amused surrender. "But if you drop me, I'll sue."

His indignation was clearly feigned. "I've never dropped you — except for that one time during the Zombie Bunnies of Ultimate Evil Incident, and for that I plead extenuating circumstances."

She smirked. "Like your zombie bunnies' programming going haywire the second they got damp from the grass at the city Easter Egg Hunt, and then turning on you and gnawing your boots off?"

"Like I said: extenuating circumstances. And they didn't gnaw on _you."_

"That's because they knew you were the easier target. But since I doubt there're any computer-controlled zombie bunnies around today, I'm sure there won't be any problems. Lead on, Mr. Ex-Supervillain."

Even though they were very nearly the same height (though Roxanne used to suspect that she was a bit heavier, until the first time she'd tried to pick up her beau in a playful surprise attack and found that he was nowhere near as light as his slender build suggested), Megamind had no trouble lifting her into his arms, blanket and all. With the "blindfold" still in place, Roxanne couldn't see a thing, but after they'd gone only a short distance, she heard the familiar mumble of waves coming ashore, a pleasant whooshing sound rather than the dreadful thundering roar of a few days ago. When she was set on her feet again, she felt a hard but uneven surface beneath her soles. She was about ask where they were — because she had a definite suspicion — when the mask was removed from her eyes.

They were back at Cave Point, farther out on the same promontory where they'd faced the storm only days before. But now, the lake was active but no longer angry, nor were the skies black and green and threatening. There were waves rolling in, foaming white at the base of the bluffs, but merely licking the stone playfully, not pounding upon it in horrible fury. The pre-dawn skies were almost a sapphire blue, flecked with pinks and golds where the nearing sun painted the small dots and larger swirls of ordinary summer clouds with its rays, reaching up from beyond the horizon like a carpet spread out before the arrival of a queen. The bluffs were beginning to take on a glow of pinkish gold, catching the growing light, and along their face, following a slipstream of the morning winds, were the white shapes of gulls, gliding, soaring, diving, looping — _playing, _Roxanne realized, like children set loose from the bondage of school, dancing with gleeful delight, reveling in their freedom.

These were the sights that greeted her eyes when they were uncovered, as for the moment, Megamind was standing behind her, wanting her to see first this glorious change in what had recently been such a frightening place. "I remembered some of the pictures we were shown at the restaurant on the day we arrived," he said, his voice coming from near her right shoulder. "And the stories those people told us — not just of the storms, but of the ways the beauty of the place could change, just with the time of day or the direction of the wind. I didn't know for sure that this would turn out to be such a perfect sunrise, but I'm glad it is."

"So am I," Roxanne agreed when she regained the breath that had been taken away by the sight of the waking world. "I was afraid that I'd only remember the storm, not the nicer things that followed. This is just the sort of memory that will balance it — like seeing the real beauty behind the ugly beast."

His chuckle was rueful. "Interesting that you should say that. I've wondered if you sometimes thought of me, that way."

She smiled, watching the gulls riding the breeze. "Sometimes. Though you were never really a beast, and I _never _thought of you as ugly. It's just that the real you can be so different from the face you liked to show the world, all those years you tried to convince people — and yourself — that you were the worst kind of villain. Back then, I would never have believed that you'd ever kidnap me just to watch a beautiful sunrise. But I didn't know you well enough then to understand that you might do just that."

"I dreamed of it," he admitted. "But I didn't think it could ever happen. I'm glad I was wrong. And while I _did_ kidnap you to see the sunrise, that's not the _only_ reason I brought you here."

Now curious, Roxanne finally turned to look at him. She'd known he was wearing gloves, though they weren't the nearly arm-length ones of his most common work garb; these, though black leather with silver studs and buckles, came only to within a few inches of his elbows, allowing the fuller sleeves of his black silk dress shirt to fit without constriction. His close-tailored black slacks were tucked into a pair of his favorite boots, and a studded belt with his logo buckle was around his waist. Over it all, he wore one of his black and blue broad-shouldered, high-collared capes, though one on which the spikes had been modified and were currently retracted so as to appear like silver studs. The steady breezes made the cape flow about him quite dramatically, and she wondered for a moment if he'd deliberately positioned himself to take advantage of it.

It was an interesting combination of costume and more ordinary clothing, hearkening back to his traditional kidnapping garb without using the full leather costume. She wondered if he had only brought these few accessories, not a complete outfit, or if he felt that using the full garb was somehow inappropriate now, either a misuse of his new status as a hero or a step too far back into his old villain persona, given the nature of even a faux abduction. Her ruminations reached her face as a quizzical expression.

Megamind saw her questioning look and smiled in a way that seemed oddly... shy, one thumb rubbing the edge of his oval belt buckle. "I've been doing a lot of thinking ever since we got here," he began to explain, aware that she was seeking answers. "Not here here, as in _right_ here, but general here, away from Metrocity. I didn't really know why, I just supposed it was because I've never had so much time on my hands, to do with as I pleased. Has that ever happened to you?"

Roxanne didn't have to consider her answer for more than a second. "Oh, yes, definitely. My parents divorced while I was in high school, and it wasn't amiable at all. For years after that, every moment of my life was about trying to be what _they_ wanted, trying to keep my head above water while they were both pulling at me, wanting to drag me in the ways they wanted, to force me to _be _what they wanted so they could 'win' their stupid fights with one another. At least you and Wayne never pulled _that_ sort of insanity with me! Mom expected me to become a nurse like her and devote my entire life to what she called the 'noblest service to mankind.' Dad wanted me to find a jock to marry right out of high school and devote my life to giving him lots of grandsons, which I was then supposed to stay home and raise while he and the son-in-law went off hunting and fishing and carousing. He was ticked off when I went to college instead of marrying one of the jerks he'd hand-picked for me, and she got her nose out of joint when I dumped the nursing program and declared a major in journalism. I wanted to live _my _life, _my _way, not the way someone else decided it should be."

She sighed, looking up at the colorful skies that were slowly brightening with the approach of dawn. "I guess that's what made me so stubborn, having to fight the two of them to keep my life my own, not a part of their fights. You couldn't make me scream for you because compared to them, you were a nice guy, kidnappings and all! From the time they divorced until halfway through my junior year in college, I didn't ever have a chance to sit down long enough to clear my head and just think about _me, _about what I wanted, about where my life was going. Then during the winter break that year, I went with a friend of mine on a month long road trip instead of going back home. We did what we wanted, stopped where we liked, didn't have anyone around telling us where to go, what to do, what to think — I'd forgotten what that felt like, if I'd ever really known it."

Her eyes turned distant, looking back upon her memories. "We stopped for a week in a little town in upstate New York that Kim and I both fell in love with, and I finally got a chance to ask myself: Who _is_ Roxanne Ritchi? What does _she_ think, what does _she_ want? That's when I realized I wanted to be a journalist. I'd always enjoyed both writing and interacting with people, and this way I could do both, use those skills to investigate, to ask questions and find the truths and the reasons behind all the things that happen in the world, to understand them and then share that understanding with others. Being a nurse _was_ a way of helping people, too, but it wasn't the way I wanted, and finding some guy just to become a baby factory..." She shuddered. "No way, not my idea of a good reason to get married. When and if that happened, I wanted it to be for love, not for anything less."

She stopped, suddenly realizing that she was carrying on, probably giving too much unwanted information, possibly spoiling whatever Megamind had planned. "Sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to rattle on like that. To answer your question: yes, it's happened to me. And I can understand why it happened to you now. That little town I stayed in was a lot like Sister Bay: quiet, pretty, no one there shoving expectations down your throat, telling you do this, do that, be this, be that. Like you've said before, up until now, all your life has been about plotting, planning, struggling — surviving. It doesn't leave much room for deep personal reflection, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," the ex-villain agreed. Far from being offended by her ramblings, he'd found them intriguing, an explanation for aspects of her life they'd never discussed in quite so much depth before. "But I've been thinking about those other things now, a lot, just like you did. Who am I, what do I believe, what do I want out of life — not just as a career, not just as a superhero, but as... me, Mykaal."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I thought I was going a little crazy at first — this is just so _different _from how things were before! I mean, since when does the great Megamind think of anything but the next glorious plan, the next incredible invention?" He struck an appropriately exaggerated pose. "Villain or hero, I was either above or below the need for such thoughts—" The pose melted away like snow in summer. "—but it seems I wasn't. And the craziness has gotten much better — I'm not feeling like I'm losing my mind, anymore!"

She chuckled gently. "I totally understand that feeling! Have you found any answers yet?" she wondered, slipping one hand out from under the blanket to take the nearer of his.

He looked down for a few moments, watching his black-gloved thumb as it caressed the back of her smooth, pale hand. "Some," he finally said. "I suspect we've all got questions that will never be answered as completely as we'd like. But other things..." He shrugged. "I _think_ I have some answers — some clearer ideas of what I want, anyway. It's funny, though: it's not as easy to have what you want when it matters _how_ you get it. Stealing is easy. Winning — that's hard."

She saw his point, especially as she'd been witness to so many of his losses. "So what do you want to win now that you don't feel right about stealing, anymore?"

The only way to describe his expression was a peculiar hybrid of droll humor and wistful regret. "Something I _couldn't_ have stolen, even when I was doing my best to be evil. Yesterday, I was looking at some of the pictures you took of this place the first time we were here, and I decided that one of the reasons I like it is because it reminds me of us. Not us coming here, but us, the way we are. Sometimes, one of us can be as stubborn as the rocks while the other one's like the waves, bashing away, trying to make a dent, furious; sometimes we can be calm and peaceful, even though there may be rocks still hiding under the surface; sometimes, it's just being together, happy, playing, doing things for the fun of it."

He flung out his free arm in a sweeping gesture, indicating the gulls riding the slipstream of the wind as it flowed along the bluffs, and beyond and below them, the ceaseless motion of the water against the stone. "It's very complicated, and yet it's incredibly simple, too. There may be a lot of drama, or peace — stress, or happiness. Either way, the rock channels the water and the water shapes the rock. They're more beautiful together than apart. It's... art, living art!" The sheer excitement of discovery was in both his voice and his face.

The sun chose that auspicious moment to crest the horizon, the morning light turning the stone bluffs to bronze and the swelling waves to liquid gold. The green trees above were now gilt-edged, as were the wings of the gulls until that exquisite display of nature's art passed. Roxanne drank in the glorious sight, squeezing back when she felt the fingers around hers tightening as they experienced a mutual feeling of awe at the all too brief manifestation of nature clothed in its very finest.

As the brilliant golden light began to soften and the world around them returned to its ordinary colors, still made beautiful by the clear morning light, she turned to her blue beloved, smiling. "Thank you for bringing me to see this. You're right, it's a lovely metaphor for the two of us — and it's beautiful, no matter what the weather."

He returned the smile with a secretive look she didn't see. "I'm glad you agree, and you're welcome. Roxanne, would you marry me?"

She had glanced away for a moment, her attention drawn by the sound of a shrieking gull. She began to say that she'd thought about the possibility when she suddenly realized that he wasn't speculating about a mere someday chance. Her head turned back toward him so quickly, the movement of her bangs felt like tiny whips lashing across her forehead. Her blue eyes were wide, startled by how she'd been so completely taken by surprise by the question, so skillfully abducted — not in body, but in heart, beguiled by the utter sincerity in the eyes looking back at her, bright with the dawn light, open, pensive, waiting — hopeful.

In that same moment, something within Roxanne shifted, turning a perception that she hadn't even known had been ever so slightly out of focus to abruptly bring it into crystal clarity. She hadn't been _waiting_ to hear this question; she'd been _wanting _to hear it. And now that she had, there was only one answer.

"Yes, Mykaal, I would. I _will."_

From the way the emerald eyes closed as a huge, plainly relieved sigh escaped his lips, Roxanne knew the exact reason behind that indefinable almost-fear she'd heard in Megamind's voice before they'd left the house; she understood the odd shyness and hesitance he'd been showing since they'd arrived, his need to explain what had led to this point. He'd been both anticipating and dreading her answer to his question, hoping that she would say yes, terrified that she would say no. She supposed that every man in love who had ever been in this situation felt much the same way, the simultaneous longing for acceptance and fear of rejection — and like every woman in love, she knew precisely how to assuage the longing and calm the fear.

Before he could open his eyes again, she kissed him, letting the blanket fall as she wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer. He stiffened for an instant, startled, then he melted, shifting their position as his arms went around her so that his cape would envelop the both of them, shielding her from the cool morning breeze.

How long they stood there, lost in the moment and each other, neither was ever able to say. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Megamind had asked her the most important question of their lives, and she had said yes, willingly, eagerly, joyfully. When they broke their kiss but not their embrace, the sun was fully clear of the horizon, the clouds bright puffs of white against the clean blue of the sky, the day well and truly begun. The sparkle of light off the water was brilliant, and nudged the happiness-besotted hero's memory.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he said as he reluctantly removed one of his arms from around Roxanne to reach behind himself, to the small concealed storage compartment at the back of his belt. "It took me over an hour to make up my mind about this — I wound up needing to use the stealth mode on your car to get the rest of my errands finished so I could make it back to the spa in time to pick you up. I hope you like it."

When he brought his arm forward again, he was holding up a ring, the simplicity of which struck Roxanne almost as much as the fire of the stone in its setting. It was unexpectedly traditional, a brilliant-cut diamond solitaire in what she suspected was a platinum ring, the band of the latter artfully twisted into the shape of a simple but very meaningful infinity loop with the sparkling stone set at its center. "I went to the jeweler's near the leather store, since both Sunny and the owner of the rock shop had recommended him. I'd originally wanted to design something myself, something totally unique, but I thought that sticking with what's traditional would be best when I decided there isn't enough time—"

"Enough time?" Roxanne repeated, tearing her eyes from the glittering single diamond — good God, was it two carats? Three? — to give her new fiancé a quizzical look. "Isn't that what a woman usually says when she's gotten pregnant and wants to get married before she starts to show?"

The lavender blush that crept across his cheeks was as charmingly innocent as ever. "Since you haven't said anything, I'm presuming that isn't the case," he said, almost primly. "No, this is different. I told you that I've been doing a lot of thinking about my life and where it's going, and I decided almost immediately that wherever it goes, I want it to be with you. I can't imagine my life without you, Roxanne — I don't _want_ to imagine it without you, ever. I know it's an old cliché, about a bad man changing his ways for the love of a good woman, but to me, it's only the truth. I changed because of you, I _wanted_ to change, because of you. You make me want to be more than I've ever been before, for better reasons than I ever thought I could have. I don't want it just for me; I want it for _you,_ so that I can be someone you can be proud of, not ashamed of. You saw beyond the color of my skin and the size of my head and the place I was born, even after I turned your life inside out and upside down and nearly ruined everything. I don't want to be that selfish, spoiled, inconsiderate loser anymore. You make me want to succeed, if only to make the world a better place for you. So this isn't something I decided on the spur of the moment, asking you to marry me. I've been thinking about it in one way or another for a long time. It was only when we came here and I could think more clearly that I realized I wanted to ask you before we left. I wanted to do it in a place that wasn't somehow tainted by memories of unpleasant things that happened in the past, when I _was _so stupidly selfish."

Roxanne had listened without interrupting, able to sense by his agitated, emphatic delivery that he felt it very important to tell her all these things, now. She could understand why, yet her question remained unanswered. "But we were planning to stay here for a whole month," she pointed out. "We still have over two weeks to go — more, if we decide to extend the trip. Why didn't you think you had enough time to wait a little longer before asking me?"

This time, Megamind's sigh wasn't at all relieved; it was almost a growl. "Because of Mitchell. I don't trust him, even with everything we've put together to keep him away. He's an idiot, but even stupid animals can be very cunning. If his goal is to come after you because he wants to convince you to be his Mrs. Mitchell, then one way we can make sure he'll give that up for good is by doing what _we_ want before he has a chance to interfere again."

That unexpected statement brought the reporter up short. "I hope you're not saying you asked me to marry you just because you don't want Stewart Mitchell to keep trying to snare me into a relationship with him. I've told you, I am _not _interested in him...!"

The blue head shook furiously, a rejection of Mitchell, not her declaration. "I know! And I just told you, I was planning to ask soon, anyway. I asked _now_ because it seemed like it would be a better time than waiting longer only because I hadn't worked up the nerve, yet. His persistence just gave me a little extra motivation. Don't you believe me?"

The anxious, almost desperate look on the blue face as that question was asked made Roxanne regret her knee-jerk suspicious reporter reactions. "Of course I believe you," she assured him, letting her regret show. "I wouldn't have said yes if I'd thought you weren't totally sincere. And you're right, even if Mitchell shows his smarmy, ugly face around here, it'll be a nice solid slap across it if we're already engaged."

The anxiety visibly drained from her beau's slender body. "That's part of what I was thinking."

"Only part?"

He nodded, and now, mischief glinted in his eyes and tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Wouldn't it be an even nicer, harder blow to his slimy ego if he showed his ugly face and we were already married?"

The brunette's eyes widened at the suggestion, then narrowed slyly as her own wicked smile crossed Roxanne's face. "It would be, but it might not be possible."

He was already prepared with the answer. "It is. That's another reason I went down to Sturgeon Bay yesterday. It's the county seat, and I wanted to talk to the people in charge of these things and find out if we can get married in this state, and how quickly. All we need are our driver's licenses, birth certificates, five days, and eighty dollars. I've already spoken to the County Clerk and the judge who would need to waive any additional waiting periods because we're from Michigan. He's willing; we just need to go to his office with the required documents, and he'll get things rolling. If Wayne's willing to bring the papers before the offices close today, we can be married next Wednesday, if you want. The judge even said he'd be happy to perform the ceremony, if we can't find someone else to do it." He laughed softly. "I have a feeling he actually _wants _to be the one to do it."

Roxanne didn't know what to say. The whole thing seemed incredibly sudden — not the proposal, but the idea of getting married only five days after he'd popped the question. Granted, she knew plenty of people who hadn't even waited that long, and had headed for one of the states where there was no waiting period at all to elope and have it over and done with as quickly as possible. But in those cases, the couple was usually either ridiculously impatient, trying to hide the marriage itself, or trying to avoid the possibility of interference by angry parents or jealous exes.

Which, now that she thought about it, wasn't too far from their own situation. She knew how her parents felt about the two alien men in her life, and she knew from relatives just why both of them had stopped talking to her just about two years ago, when she and the recently ex-villain had become an Item. She didn't think that either of them would try to stop her from marrying Megamind, but it wasn't a risk she wanted to take, planning a normal wedding only to have one or both of them show up and try to ruin it. And there were other things to consider: the potential media circus, the annoyance of not only well-meaning fans and nosy paparazzi, but also of people like Mitchell and the bigots and religious fanatics who either felt that Roxanne would be betraying her own race by marrying someone so clearly outside it, or that Megamind shouldn't be allowed to marry _anyone,_ since he obviously wasn't human and therefore should be forbidden to marry because they considered it bestiality, an abomination.

She hated how the beautiful, happy, loving moment had been so quickly clouded by the ugliness of grim reality. She also hated what she felt compelled to ask next. "Didn't the judge have a problem with you not being human?"

She was therefore shocked when she saw the delighted smile that lit her intended's face. "I was afraid he might, but he really surprised me. He's apparently been thinking about that very issue for a long time, since if one being from another planet can show up on Earth, sooner or later, others will. He didn't think it would be very wise to wait until it happened before giving the question due consideration, so he did it on his own. Smart move, since the most obvious alien on the planet lived in the neighborhood, so to speak."

"That _was _smart of him," Roxanne had to admit. "Very progressive thinking, too. So what happened?"

Megamind grinned impishly. "He treated the concept like a case he was reviewing in order to render an official judgment. He studied any reliable materials about me that he could get his hands on, reviewed the laws of the land, and decided that the data conclusively shows that while I'm _racially_ different, I'm still _technically_ human. Aside from my own private investigations, there's actually enough official evidence to prove it, in my medical records and the findings of a couple of formal academic in-depth genetic and physiological studies I allowed because I was curious and didn't have the facilities to do it on my own when I was a teenager. I may be physically and mentally more advanced and slightly differently adapted as a result, but everything else I am tests as human, not as some wholly unrelated species."

Roxanne took several moments to digest these revelations, shelving some greater implications they roused for later consideration. "And he's willing to ignore your lack of a birth certificate?"

The ex-villain dismissed that as utterly inconsequential with a wave of one hand. "Oh, I have that — a proper one, too, not a forgery. Warden Thurmer had it filed and processed as soon as he could after I landed in the prison. I was treated as an orphaned foundling, which I obviously was and could confirm, once I started talking. That way I couldn't be treated as illegal, or swept under the rug into a top secret lab — which was both for my own protection as well as the government's. Officially, I was a ward of the state with Ralph Thurmer as my appointed guardian, and when I turned eighteen, I became a legally naturalized citizen of the US. As such, I can't ever hold certain public offices — I can be an Evil Overlord, but not President — but I also can't be forbidden the freedom to get married simply because some bigots and religious fanatics don't like the idea. I didn't even need to explain it, since the judge already knew those details."

Now, Roxanne was even more impressed. "I think I like this judge, and I've never even met him!"

Megamind laughed. "If you're agreeable to the idea of getting married as soon as possible, you'll meet him later today." His laughter faded as he turned serious. "But I'll understand if you don't want that. I'm already asking a lot of you, accepting me as your husband. I know that a big fancy wedding is something most women look forward to, and want to be perfect. I don't want to spoil that for you, if it's what you want."

He was so determined to do whatever would make her happiest, she couldn't help but kiss him. "Thank you," she said at length. "But I don't think that a big three-ring circus wedding is what I've ever wanted, especially not with my dad constantly hounding me to get married. There aren't all that many people I would want to invite, anyway, and if we feel like celebrating with them, we can throw a party after we get home. I imagine there might be a few people you'd like to invite to that, too."

He thought it over. "A few," he agreed, "but not many. I may have a lot of fans now, but there still aren't many I can honestly call friends. Minion, of course, and maybe Wayne, if he keeps toeing the line. The warden, and one or two others. It's pretty pathetic."

"I'm not that much better," she assured him. "Aside from Minion and Wayne, there's Marty, a few of my other friends from work, maybe five people I know outside the office, and at most three or four relatives. Between being married to my career, caught in two kinds of crossfire, and stuck with the reputation as Metro Man's girl, I just never managed to cultivate a huge circle of real friends. And I don't even want to _begin_ to get into the family situation!"

He nodded. "I understand. It sounds like they're to you what most of my prison 'uncles' were to me. They were around for a lot of my life, some were good, some were terrible, but I didn't exactly choose to get thrown together with them."

"Exactly. So, when do I get to meet this nice judge?"

The green eyes blinked hopefully. "Does that mean you want to go through with it? Getting married next week, I mean?"

Glowing with a smile that was both coy and mischievous, Roxanne raised her left hand and held it out to him in such a way that he knew exactly what to do. Returning a grin of his own that was almost jittery with suppressed excitement, Megamind took her hand and placed the ring on the proper finger, his own hands shaking until the band with its glittering stone was securely in place.

She gasped softly, surprised. "It's a perfect fit! How did you know? You never asked my ring size...!"

The expression on the blue face was now smugly impish. "Exacting scientific measurements, my dear Roxanne. You didn't think that blonde Cleo _bimboo _at KMCP was the first person I've studied so carefully, do you? Another woman captured my heart a long time ago — which is one life sentence that will _never _be appealed!"

And as she happily surrendered to her captive captor's kiss, wrapping her arms around the strong, slender body under the warm silk of his cape, Roxanne wondered — not for the last time — just how someone who could be as crazy and hyperdramatic and over the top as Megamind knew exactly how to make a woman who'd once considered him the most childish, aggravating nuisance in existence suddenly feel like she was the perfect, beautiful center of his adoring universe.

It was a gift, she decided as she happily lost herself in the moment, like creating a beautiful home from bits of discarded junk, like inventing things no one on Earth had ever imagined, like picking up the violin on a whim and mastering it. This strange, social idiot of an alien genius who had lived almost his entire life in rejected loneliness, rebelling against the world and screaming for attention be it good or bad, somehow knew _exactly_ how to create the most beautiful music between them — and for her own part, Roxanne prayed to God that he _never_ lost his touch.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter 18: The Revelation  
_


	18. The Revelation

_Author's Note: Ollo from sunny Florida, where I am on business and believe it or not suffering from Montezuma's Revenge (aka Traveler's Diarrhea). Oh, such fun! I managed to get my netbook to function with a proper word processor, and have been squeezing in bits and pieces of writing where I may (sitting next to the waterfall at the hotel pool was quite nice, since the weather here is about 40 degrees warmer than back home, and thus is MUCH more suitable to the process of writing about people on vacation at the height of summer than doing it in a cold early spring on Lake Michigan! My arm seems to be improving (thank you to all who expressed concern!), and perhaps if I'm lucky, the TD will run its course in time for me to enjoy one day here before heading back to lands where when the Groundhog predicts six more weeks of winter, that IS an early spring! I'm glad folks enjoyed the previous chapter! There are times when I worry a mite about overdoing it in romantic scenes to the point of turning my prose as purple as a blushing Megamind, but my sister the retired English Lit teacher and former pro editor (who is also my beta, after a fashion) tells me that I'm managing to come up to the brink without falling over. Whew! And I guess what's one person's "purple prose" can be another person's "beautifully evocative description"! How nice that there's room for all kinds of tastes and opinions in the world! So with that said, and VERY grateful thanks offered to all my lovely reviewers (you don't know how much I agonized over that chapter!), let's move on with the story! :)_

* * *

XVIII

The Revelation

Though it would have been a shorter trip driving from the Point to the county seat rather than returning to the house, by the time they were ready to leave — at the first sign of other visitors stirring in the area — there were still more than two hours to go before the offices would open for the day. Moreover, both Megamind and Roxanne agreed that it was highly unlikely that Wayne would want to fly anywhere that he might risk being seen when he arrived with the needed documents. They had no doubt that he would do it, if for no other reason than his desire to cultivate the friendship between himself and the couple, so they figured it would be kind if they didn't ask him to risk blowing his cover as a supposedly powerless retired superhero in public when there was an easy solution at hand: returning to the privacy of the Scotts' secluded summer house.

Besides, Megamind insisted that they call Minion first, not merely because he was the one who would need to locate their birth certificates, but because he deserved to hear this news first, before anyone else.

Roxanne had readily supported him in that — and returning to the house would let them use the speakerphone so that she could be a part of the conversation, in private — but she'd also been curious. "Does Minion know you've been thinking about this, if it's been on your mind for as long as you say?" she asked during the return drive, when he'd mentioned his plans to make the call.

Megamind both shook his head and shrugged. "He knows that I've had dreams and hopeless fantasies of being together with you for years, even back when I was still the villain kidnapping you, but I never said the M word to him, even when I was at my sappiest and more than a little drunk. I made enough of a lovestruck fool of myself as it was; I was terrified that he'd laugh at me if I ever uttered the word 'marry.' Looking back, I guess that knowing how I felt about you was why he was worried when he found out I'd been dating you as Bernard. Until then, my ramblings about you always ended with the conviction that this was something that would _never_ happen, because bad guys don't get the girl — any girl worth having, at least. It was hopeless, I knew it, and so long as I stayed clear on that point, there was no chance that my fantasies would end badly, beyond being a textbook case of unrequited love. We both expected that there would never _be _a relationship because you simply wouldn't allow it."

He tried not to sigh, and failed. "The whole Bernard charade changed the status quo, and what had been sappy but harmless daydreams suddenly turned into a dangerous situation. He was upset enough when he found out that I'd been stupid and had tried to make my dream come true by lying to you about who I really was. If he'd known that I sometimes dreamed about marriage...! I think he would've done more than take away the car keys — he was so desperate to protect me from myself, I probably would've spent the next ten years as a little blue cube, sealed in a zero humidity artificial environment."

Though Roxanne was well aware of the piscine's protective nature toward anyone he considered a part of his little family — of which she herself was already a member — the very thought of the generally good-natured and exceptionally gentle-mannered Minion taking such drastic measures with his beloved Sir was almost unimaginable, and therefore mildly worrisome. "He's not likely to be upset now, is he?"

Her fiancé gave her a laconic "get real!" look as he snorted, "Upset?"

* * *

"Sir! Oh, sir — Ms Roxanne — sir — oh, I just don't know what to say! Wait — yes, I do! Congratulations! No, no, that's not good enough! I just — oh, wait, I know, I know! Pinky! Yes! Pinky, go to Ms Roxanne's office and get the blue envelope in Cabinet B! No, not you, Shredder! You make one move for that elevator and I'm going to disassemble you for parts! I mean it! Pinky, where's that envelope? Shredder, no!"

The sounds of Minion's dithering followed by chaos on the other end of the line had Roxanne half-choking on the oven mitt she was using to smother her laughter, and Megamind rolling his eyes with an amused but lopsided grin on his face. "I told you he wouldn't be upset," the ex-villain said, holding down the button on the phone that would mute their end of the conversation for the moment. "Lose his mind, yes; get upset, no. Minion, get a hold of yourself!" he commanded, having released the button. They then heard a loud metallic _thunk! _from the speaker. "Change that to pull yourself together! What's going on? Minion!"

"Sorry, sir," his sidekick's harried voice returned a moment later. The fish sounded out of breath, even though that wasn't a problem he tended to suffer after exertion. "Shredder was sulking and was about to start chewing up your idea wall. I had to shut him down quick and... well, if you notice a dent in one of the storage lockers, that's why."

"You _really_ need to calm down," his boss all but ordered.

Minion, however, was having none of it. "But sir, I don't _want _to calm down! This is... fantastic, monumental, incredible! It's...it's...it's..." Words failed him, and now, they heard the oddest bubbling, gargling noises.

Roxanne blinked, first at the phone, then at her fiancé. "Is he _crying?" _she whispered, speaking from behind her hand to hopefully prevent her voice from being picked up.

Megamind nodded, his crooked smile back. "No need to whisper, he can't hear you when he's like this."

"Are you _sure _he isn't upset?"

"About us getting engaged? No. About not being here right now? Probably." A minute or so ticked by; Roxanne wondered how long this would keep up, while Megamind drummed his fingers on the tabletop, counting down the seconds. "Five... four... three... two... now!"

Precisely on cue, the burbling noises became more controlled splutters and snurfles and semi-intelligible but otherwise meaningless word fragments, as if Minion was trying to get his slipping vocal cords back into gear. Megamind sighed. "I'm sorry you're not here yet, Minion, but it just couldn't be helped. You wanted Roxanne and I to have some time alone together, we agreed that someone should stay to keep an eye on the city—"

"Oh, _screw _the city!" Roxanne was now officially shocked; she'd _never _heard Minion use language like that. She'd wondered sometimes if he actually _knew_ any of it. "They need to learn to be less helpless, and the brainbots can help out with almost anything that comes up, or contact us if it they can't. This is _important, _sir, _really _important!"

Now, both of them couldn't keep from smiling. "It's sweet of you to feel that way, Minion," Roxanne said. "I feel pretty excited myself, but really, we don't need to do this today if it's going to cause so much trouble. A few days later won't make any difference — will it?" The question was aimed at Megamind, since she realized that to him, it _might _make a difference, given all that he'd done thus far to make the wedding even possible.

Happily, he was neither offended nor disappointed. "No, it won't," he confirmed. "The fastest it can be done doesn't mean that it's the way it _must _be done. Just as long at it's before we head home." When he made that last statement, he reached out for his fiancée's hand, seeking his own confirmation from her.

She smiled and nodded. "That's all I want — that, or before Mitchell shows up to spoil the surprise. Do we know where he is today, by the way?"

Minion's nod was audible. "Yes, he's beginning day two of the ride, leaving the Chicago area and heading for Terre Haute, Indiana. Sneaker's been staying inside the car, and Snooper followed him into the hotel. Those two have been a really great team, since while they're on the road, Snooper rides on the roof of the car, unless they want a higher surveillance shot. He just sent back a nice little video of the traffic jam Mitchell's stuck in on the south side of Chicago."

"Has he said anything about heading back?" Megamind wondered.

Minion snickered. "Oh, he's been swearing a blue streak about wanting to give up because of the traffic snarl, but when he called his hacker friend for an update, he said that he's planning to keep going. He figures things will get better after he's out of the Chicago area. He's expecting to spot 'you' tonight, since by then, he plans to have caught up with the biggest group of riders. Sneaker and Snooper both think the only thing he'll catch up with are state troopers, hauling him in for reckless driving. Yesterday, Mr. Wayne and I got a snapshot of 'Megamind and Roxanne' on the top of the Sears Tower, and another one outside the Museum of Science and Industry — Blinkie took the shots, he's got a nice sense of composition for a brainbot. We posted them to an account we set up for a fake biker on Deviant Art, and Mitchell's hacker saw 'em and told him, just a little while ago."

Roxanne was mildly concerned. "That didn't give him the idea that he should head back, did it?"

Minion was confident. "Oh, no, just the opposite, he thinks that if he hurries even more, he'll catch you sooner. Mr. Wayne thought he might react that way, so we took a couple of extra pictures yesterday. One is of the two of you in Indianapolis, and the other's of you in Terre Haute. About fifteen minutes before Mitchell reaches Terre Haute, he's going to post the picture for Indianapolis, and if Mitchell takes the bait and goes there, he'll let him run around for a while, then put up the one for Terre Haute. Mr. Wayne can really be pretty devious when he puts his mind to it."

The blue ex-villain grinned. "Well, he does seem to be learning, doesn't he?"

Roxanne smiled, but couldn't feel too encouraged. "I just hope it doesn't backfire and make Mitchell even angrier. It's bad enough having a stalker; I don't want him to turn into a stalker with a gun."

"Not a chance," Megamind assured her. "Sneaker and Snooper aren't going anywhere but on his tail. They can run for a year without needing a recharge; it was a modification I put in when I designed the stealthbot model. If he starts to collect any kind of weapons, we'll know about it and we'll be ready for it. But I suspect he won't have the guts. From everything we know about him, he's more likely to turn teal and try to disappear before charges can be formally made."

The reporter's smile turned wry. "It's 'turn tail,' hon. 'Teal' is closer to what you are—" She rubbed her thumb on the blue fingers holding hers. "—and not in a few billion years would I _ever _want to compare one of the things I love about you to him!"

The discussion concerning Mitchell finally had the effect of getting Minion to calm down considerably. When he spoke again, he was definitely much less agitated. "I think we all know he's going to catch on, sooner or later, and probably not that much later. You're right, Ms Roxanne, unless Mr. Wayne and I let him confront us directly, he's likely to get frustrated and give up."

Megamind suddenly sat up straighter. "That might not be such bad idea," he reflected.

Roxanne thought otherwise. "Unless Wayne can do better than he did in that interview, it'd be a terrible idea. Mitchell would get the notion that I've turned into some helpless little thing that can barely talk for herself, and he'd turn into an even bigger nuisance, thinking that if you could brainwash me, so can he. No, I don't think we should press our luck. As long as he doesn't know for sure where we are, that's good enough. Giving up on this wild goose chase still won't bring him any closer to the truth."

Her beau sighed. "You're right, you've said it before: it's always the most complicated schemes that find the worst ways to go haywire. Have you located our birth certificates yet, Minion?"

"Oh, yes!" the piscine was happy to report, a cheerful _bowg _in the background adding further confirmation. "Pinky fetched Ms Roxanne's from where we put it after filing her papers last week, and yours was right where it always is, in The Vault."

Roxanne gave the ex-villain a most peculiar look. "The Vault?" she echoed. "Is that at a bank, or a part of the Lair I don't know about, and when were you planning to let me in on the secret?"

Megamind cleared his throat, aware that she was right on the money. "Ah... well, it isn't actually a _secret," _he insisted. "It just never came up. It's where I keep important papers, like blueprints and designs and schematics for all my inventions, legal documents, petty cash..."

"All four walls covered with his Photographic Tribute to Roxanne Ritchi, 1999 to the Present..." a certain voice added from the speakerphone.

"Minion!" His ward favored the phone with a glare that could easily have passed for Metro Man's laser vision. "That is _not _true!"

"It isn't?" The reporter sounded sad. "Aw, that's disappointing, I always suspected you were a fan, and at least had a couple of walls covered with my pictures in some hidden corner of the Lair."

From the color he turned, Roxanne couldn't be sure if Megamind was embarrassed or suffering from asphyxiation. When he demonstrated that he hadn't lost his ability to talk, the latter was eliminated from consideration. "It's just one wall, not an entire room," he said meekly. "And not even the entire wall. I have very... particular tastes."

Minion snorted. "Yeah, that's why you have five copies of—"

"Minion, if you say one more word, just one, I'll learn how to do this 'fish boil' thing, and so help me...!"

Roxanne intervened before he popped every vein in his neck. "Boys, boys, enough, okay? Let's quit before someone says something they regret! I was just kidding, sweetie, and if you have a dozen rooms wallpapered with old pictures of me in parts of the Lair I don't know about, it's fine, I'd actually be flattered — now. A few years ago, I might've thought it was creepy, but things've changed. I'm okay with it."

From the silence that followed on both ends of the line, it was apparent her words had struck home. Then the silence was broken, also on both ends, simultaneously.

"I'm sorry, Minion..."

"Sir, I didn't mean to be rude, I'm sorry..."

The blue genius sighed. "And you shouldn't have to step in and stop our squabbles, Roxanne. It's not fair to you."

She patted his hand. "Maybe, but once in a while, it's all right. I imagine we'll all have our turn to play referee."

The look Megamind gave her was priceless. "Oh, I don't think so. I can't see you and Minion _ever _needing a _reefer-ee!"_

After a beat, both reporter and sidekick burst out laughing. "I hope you're right, hon," Roxanne said with a grin, kissing his nearer cheek. "I don't think I'd do very well in a fight with a five hundred pound robot gorilla suit — and I don't think you'd stand a chance of breaking it up without your de-gun!"

Minion was still chortling when he replied. "Never, Ms Roxanne, I couldn't ever get into that kind of fight with you, or sir! Mr. Wayne, maybe, and the crooks we fight, definitely, but not either of you. Besides, that habitat still needs a lot of repair. I was going to see what I could do with it while you were gone, but other things came up, what with Mitchell — and now this! I can put together a remote console to monitor the brainbot feed from up there, it wouldn't take too long..."

"Minion, you've done more than enough already," his ward said, now neither angry nor apologetic. "Right now, all we need are the birth certificates. And while a remote monitoring system might be useful, it would sort of defeat the whole idea of coming here on vacation, don't you think?"

Roxanne was in full agreement. "He's right, Minion, the last thing you want to do is bring your work with you on vacation. Trust me on this; I know."

"But what about Mitchell?" the ichthyoid asked, genuinely concerned.

"He's a slimy punk," Megamind said succinctly. "And if we can't stop worrying about him long enough to get the rest we've earned, then he wins. He'll be running our lives — and ruining them."

Roxanne stared at her intended for several very long moments, startled and impressed. "That's right," she finally affirmed. "He's exactly right, Minion. That's always the problem with bullies and bigots. It's bad enough when they _think _they're running your life. If you let your life revolve around them, they _do _run it, and they win. We'll have to confront Mitchell eventually, and I don't want what's supposed to be a happy time spoiled with worries of him. Mykaal and I have made our choices, and we choose each other. If he tries to interfere or stop it, he'll have to answer to us. And believe me, if he thinks he's some kind of irresistible force, he's going to be _very _surprised when he finds himself caught between a _real _one, and his unmovable object!"

It took a second before the implications of her metaphor made their way through Megamind's large brain; when they did, he smiled, and lifted her hand to kiss it. "I like being called an irresistible force — especially by you."

"Then does this mean you're not going to have the wedding soon?" Minion asked after waiting a minute or so to let them kiss, which he was sure they were doing (and was right).

"Oh, no, we're still going ahead with that," Roxanne spoke for both of them, since her fiancé was currently in a state of love-induced mind-numbed bliss. "But we're just not going to spend half our time worrying about Mitchell when we could be spending it having much more fun, making our own plans and enjoying our vacation."

"That's _so_ right," Megamind agreed with a huge, happy sigh. "If Wayne is willing to bring the papers up today, we'd appreciate it, but if he isn't, you can bring them up when you're ready to come."

"So should we just drop all the plans we had to deal with Mitchell?" Minion asked, sounding a little disappointed.

The couple exchanged glances, then shrugged. "Not unless you want to," the ex-villain answered. "It sounds like the two of you were having fun with it."

"Well... maybe just a little," the piscine admitted. "Mr. Wayne was especially getting a kick out of it — but to tell the truth, I think I'd have a _lot _more fun, helping plan even a tiny wedding, especially for you, sir, and Ms Roxanne! I've had some ideas, you know, ever since Ms Roxanne moved into the Lair and you both seemed so happy... until things went kinda sour back in April. But I kept on hoping..."

The sound that escaped the reporter could only be described as a girlish giggle. "Why Minion, you closet romantic, you!"

Megamind snorted. "Closet? What closet? He keeps it right out in the open! After all, who's the one who stays awake with you through all those _cheek fleeks _you enjoy so much?"

"Maybe if you stayed awake once in a while instead of dropping off during the first ten minutes, you'd hear us _laughing _at them," Roxanne pointed out with a little smirk.

The blue hero was unimpressed. "_You _laugh. _He _laughs when you're there, and then goes off to his room later and bawls over 'em."

The blue eyes blinked, first at Megamind, then at the phone. "Do you really, Minion?"

From the way Minion hedged at first, it was clear that the barb had hit right on the mark. "Oooooookay, sir, I'd say maybe we're even, now, don't you think?"

His ward didn't argue. "Agreed. So, what time is it there, now? Eight o'clock?"

"Closer to eight-thirty, sir. Mr. Wayne went home last night, and I suppose he might be sleeping in, but even if he is, I'll call and _get _him up. This is much more important than sleep! Is it okay if I tell him why you need those papers so fast? He'll want to know, and I think he deserves a straight answer, if he's going to be doing the favor."

Roxanne glanced at Megamind, whose green eyes were fixed on the polished wood of the tabletop, not really seeing it. When they slipped sideways to meet with hers, she nodded, and he made his decision. "Yes, go ahead and tell him. You're right, if we're going to ask the favor, he should know _why_ he's being asked. And it's not like we could keep it from him for long, or should. Trust does have to start somewhere. He'd probably know something big was up, anyway, the second he took one look at you all puffed up like a blowfish, busting at the seams trying to keep a secret."

The piscine's sigh was so huge, it was apparent that he'd already been puffed up like a blowfish, holding his breath while he awaited the answer. "Thanks, sir, I guess you do know me pretty well. Not a word to anyone else, though, and I'll make sure Mr. Wayne knows it, too."

Roxanne sniffed. "If he doesn't, we'll make sure he's filled in when he gets here. One of the big reasons for doing it like this is to avoid the media circus, not just Mitchell."

Megamind held up one hand, recalling a point he'd wanted to make earlier. "Speaking of which, even if we don't keep up the charade of misdirecting him, we can let Sneaker and Snooper maintain their surveillance. We don't need to keep tabs on all of Metrocity — we _are _on vacation, after all — but keeping at least half an eye on _him_ would just make sense, especially since we already have the stealthbots in place and reporting to us."

"I agree," the brunette said without hesitation. "It would be stupid to do anything else, particularly if he _does _go postal. Forewarned is forearmed. But that's all the more I'm willing to give up for him, now that we have so much more to look forward to." The smile she gave her fiancé drew a like one from him, and started them kissing again.

In the background, Minion's excitement level had shot up once more. "That's right, even if it's just a tiny little wedding, there're things to arrange, like flowers and clothes — do you want me to help you with a dress, Ms Roxanne? I've had so many ideas, I'd at least like to share them with you. And sir! Oh, we've got to do something special for you, too! And the witnesses — who are you going to ask to be witnesses? Thanks to the governor and my friends at the ichthyological society, I have special recognition as a sapient being and a citizen of the state of Michigan, but I'm not sure if they'll accept that in Wisconsin, and you might not want me for that job, anyway..."

The couple both started to chuckle over the fish's babbling at the same moment. Roxanne indicated that Megamind should answer as she reached for the oven mitt to smother her rising laughter. "Of course we want you for that job, Minion — who else?"

"Well, don't you need _two_ witnesses?"

"I suppose, but we can work out all those details later. For now, we haven't had our breakfast yet, and you need to go call Wayne, find out if he's willing or even available to do the favor. We'll be here at the house for a while if you need to contact us."

It turned out that Minion didn't need to contact them, nor did they have much of a chance to get started on their breakfast. They'd intended to make it themselves, since it was one of the easier meals to prepare decently, but they hadn't done more than discuss what they might make and head into the kitchen prep area before they heard something suspiciously like a sonic boom shake the rafters of the house. Only a few seconds later, there was Wayne, standing in the middle of the kitchen holding Minion, who was in turn holding the envelopes with the required papers.

"—isn't necessary, Mr. Wayne!" Minion finished the sentence he'd begun back at the Lair literally a matter of moments ago. He blinked, disoriented by the sudden change of scenery. "Oh, are we here already? Mr. Wayne, I said you didn't have to bring me!"

"Didn't have to?" the musician scoffed. "Of _course _I had to! This is a big occasion!"

He set Minion back on his feet and suddenly, the robotized fish was making a beeline for his ward, his complaints utterly forgotten, though he was now sniffling as he went to hug his friend. "Oh, sir, I'm so happy for you, I'm so proud! You did ask nicely, didn't you? And did you give her a ring? That's the tradition, you know, the man gives the woman a ring, though I suppose maybe you didn't have a chance to pick one out if you surprised her...!"

Roxanne suspected that she had gotten off easy with Wayne's congratulatory hug, since the big lug knew enough to be careful with mere humans. From the look of things, poor Megamind was having the stuffings hugged out of him, despite Minion's current habitat being more human-like than his usual robot body. As it was proportioned and even shaped rather like a shorter version of Wayne, this one was actually wearing clothing, a blue flannel shirt under a somewhat stained set of denim overalls. When she saw her fiancé's eyes bug a little from the fierce squeezing he was getting, she grinned and had to intervene.

"Yes, he surprised me, and he asked _very _nicely," she told the fish, touching his arm to hopefully make him aware of what he was doing to his poor boss. "He also gave me a ring — see?" She waggled her left hand, fully gaining Minion's attention and finally prompting him to release his over-hugged friend.

Wayne looked at the displayed ring even as Minion did, though he offered Megamind a hand to discreetly keep himself upright until he got his breath back. "Wow, that's a beautiful piece of ice!" he complimented with a whistle. "I know they say something about how the ring should be worth two months' salary, but how much did you cough up for that? It's about as perfect a diamond as I've ever seen!"

Roxanne clicked her tongue at him. "It isn't polite to ask the price, Wayne, and I don't care if he got it out of a box of Cracker Jack, it's the thought that counts."

The former hero took the scolding graciously. "Yeah, you're right, Roxie. Sorry, Megs, I didn't mean to be rude, it's a beautiful ring. So, you're actually going to make it formal and legal and all, huh? Way to go, little buddy, I was getting worried that you'd let the media idiots and religious fanatics stand in the way of happiness for both of you. I'm glad they didn't."

Having recovered from Minion's over-enthused hugging, the ex-villain blinked at his erstwhile nemesis, dumbfounded. "You — you are? I was afraid you'd be opposed to it..."

"Because we used to fight all the time?" Wayne smiled crookedly as he shook his head. "I suppose I used to feel that way, or would've, if this had ever come up. I might've said you don't deserve a girl like Roxie, nobody evil does. But you're not evil, you never really were. You were bad, and you made some pretty rotten choices, but I painted you into that corner to begin with. I wasn't just a bratty kid; I was a bully, and I got away with it because of prejudice, the good looking rich jock versus the weird skinny kid from an underprivileged background. I think it sucks, the way some idiots think you're _still_ evil, and use the fact that you look different as an excuse to insist that you can't change, to try to deny you basic rights. You don't deserve that. If living your whole life stuck in a lousy role that was the only choice you were given wasn't enough of a punishment..."

Though he had been smiling brightly a minute before, the troubled look that came over the musician's face was profound. He hesitated, started to speak, stopped, then finally forged ahead. "I've been doing a lot of thinking since the two of you left, stuff I should've thought about when I had my big 'revelation' about having a choice two years ago. I guess maybe I couldn't see it until I'd been away from the hero gig for a while, and had a chance to see you and Minion in action, doing my old job — and doing it better in a lot of ways, 'cause you _did _choose it."

He sighed, thrusting one hand into a pocket of his rumpled jeans, running the other through his almost-never rumpled hair. "Both of us deserved better than we were given, just because of things we had no control over: you with your appearance, me with my powers. Neither of us asked for them, and it isn't right that we should have our entire lives defined by them. It's okay to take on a job and a role when it feels right, when it's fulfilling, but every person has the right to pull back or quit when they can't take it anymore, when it's just not right for them. Heck, even kings and queens who get literally born to it can abdicate if they want. Some people don't like 'em for it, but they still have the option. And that's why when the two of you come back home, there are gonna be some changes."

Now, all three of his companions were staring at Wayne, genuinely perplexed. He saw it — confusion, wariness, suspicion — and smiled ruefully. "I don't want to be a full-time hero anymore; I want the chance to explore the other things I love, and I want the time to do it right. But I don't mind helping you guys once in a while so you don't burn out like I did, so you have the time to explore things that _you _love without the pressure of being the hero 24/7, every day of every year — especially now, since married people need some time to be alone together, to stay connected and happy. And I've gotta admit, I kinda like being able to get back in the action when I know it's going to be only every now and then, and temporary."

Wayne's blue eyes met with Roxanne's, "So after we all get back to Metro City, I want to set up an interview with you, Roxie, one of these big in-depth things you've started doing as part of your new job. I want to tell the world the truth about what really happened, all of it: that I faked my own death because I couldn't take the job anymore, that I made the huge mistake of setting up Megamind to be the fall guy for my decision, that I didn't have any 'tragic accident' that took away my powers. I want to apologize, to all of you, to the city, to anyone who suffered because I had a midlife crisis and couldn't handle it. I want people to know that inside, heroes are just as breakable as everyone else, so they understand and don't break _you,_ Megs. And I want people to know that I'm on your side, now — not as a villain, and not even as a hero, but as another alien orphan who had a difficult life because of expectations and prejudice."

His expression suddenly hardened, not in anger, but in protective ferocity. "I want them to know that I support you and will help you when you need it — and now more than ever, I want them to know that if they have any ideas about messing with _any _of you, they'll have to answer to _me."_

It was a heartfelt speech, all the more astonishing for being unexpected and very intensely earnest. Wayne meant what he said, all of it, and for a very, very long minute, none of the others could think of how to respond to it.

Reliably, it was Roxanne who found her voice first. "I don't quite know what to say, Wayne. That's...a really big revelation you're planning. Are you sure that's what you want to do? You know that some people won't like hearing it at all, that you let the city down in such a terrible way, that you abandoned them. Some of them didn't even like the cover story you came up with, they had an easier time of it, thinking you were dead and Megamind killed you."

The former Metro Man scowled. "Yeah, it's easy that way — but it's _wrong. _Sure, Megs did a lot of things he shouldn't have, playing out the Evil Overlord bit, but he cleaned things up and paid for the damage he'd done. The least I can do is pay for the damage _I've _done, letting people believe he'd turned into a killer, and not lifting a finger to help when his plan to give the city back its superhero didn't work out. It's wrong to keep living a lie, and that's what I've been doing these last two years. I've gotta make this right, as right as I can, anyway."

He turned to Megamind, whose brain had gone into overdrive, trying to process all this mind-boggling information. "I've said I want us to be friends, Mykaal," he said, not getting the name quite right, but showing that he had been practicing. "This is what a friend would do: set the record straight, the whole record, even if he winds up taking flak for it. I want everyone to know not just what really happened with me, but what really happened with you, who it was that shoved you down that wrong path."

The ex-villain's eyes had gone wide as he listened, frankly astonished by everything his one-time nemesis had said. He swallowed thickly, wondering how his throat could have gotten so dry. "Do you know what you're saying, Wayne?" he finally managed to get out. "People are fickle. If you tell them the whole, unvarnished truth, you may not have any career at all! They won't care if you're trying to save them or trying to sell music; if they're angry, they'll turn on you! Don't you think I know that?"

"I know you do. But..." The broad shoulders shrugged. "If that's what happens, so be it. I know this may not do great things for my image, and it may make some people hate me. But at least I'll be able to hold my head up and sleep nights, knowing I tried to fix what I screwed up, both back when I was a stupid kid, and two years ago, when I was a stupid adult. I'll get back some of my self-respect — and if I'm lucky, maybe some of the people who've been stubborn about it will start giving _you_ some of the respect you deserve."

"And you'd take that chance for me? After twenty years of... well, you know."

Wayne knew. "For you, and Roxie, and Minion — and me. Yeah, I'd take that chance, even after forty years of fighting. I can't live with this on my conscience, anymore. I've hurt you enough."

For another minute or so, Megamind was quiet. At length, he closed his eyes, tense, clearly teetering on some brink; then he fell over the brink, and the tension drained away. He opened his eyes, and, biting his lower lip, extended his hand. "Well, then, I suppose if Minion can consider you a friend, so can I."

Wayne's face split in a huge grin at his former nemesis's gesture of acceptance; he carefully took the smaller blue hand in his meaty pink one to shake it, sealing the deal. "Thanks, buddy, this means a lot to me. I haven't had a lot of real friends, you know. Fans and groupies, sure, tons, but friends? Not so many."

Roxanne watched the moment of reconciliation between the bygone rivals and couldn't help but smile. "Well, you have three right here, Wayne," she said, willing to let go of any remaining hostilities toward him if Megamind was willing. "Just don't change your mind about this and disappoint us."

"Never," he vowed. "Retired superhero's honor. It'll be a relief to stop living behind lies."

That was something Megamind understood all too well. And so, the matter was settled, and the tale of their decades-long rivalry finally came to an end, even as more than one new story was about to begin.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XIX: The Arrangements_


	19. The Arrangements

_Author's Note: Home from sunny Florida, where it was 86 yesterday, to Wisconsin, where it's about 50 degrees colder and we saw snow this afternoon. Still, anything has to be better than the two hour weather delay at the airport and the very rough landing when we finally got home in high winds and cold rain. Yuck! But five hours at the airport and three in the air gave me time to do some writing, so here it is. I hope everyone enjoys it, and thanks as always to my beloved readers and reviewers! :)_

* * *

XIX

The Arrangements

As none of the four had had their breakfast yet, Minion and Wayne insisted on preparing it as a small celebration for the momentous day. Wayne's assistance was in simpler areas, such as making toast and pouring juice and setting the table. When they all settled down to eat, Minion was immediately impressed by the quality of the ingredients, and agreed with his boss that they would definitely have to see about doing something to improve the situation of available foodstuffs back in over-urbanized Metro City.

Wayne wished them luck with that, since his involvement with the city's affluent side had long since led him to believe that decent, wholesome, real food was one of the perks the so-called "privileged class" wanted to keep to itself. But, he promised, even if their efforts failed on a general level, he could do what he was able to see to it that the city's new defender and his "support team" were properly supplied. It was one thing when that hero was virtually indestructible and could eat almost anything as fuel; it was quite another when the hero was susceptible to mortal frailties, and thus should have access to the best nourishment possible to remain in peak condition. It was a strange combination of humble boasting and attempted flattery, an odd way of showing concern for his successor, which of course appealed to Megamind's vanity and left him in a considerably more charitable state of mind toward the big lug.

When breakfast was finished and Wayne had done the clean up in a literal blink of an eye, he and Minion headed back to Metro City, so that the piscine could take care of the details that needed attending before he packed and headed up to join his friends on vacation. There was certainly more than enough room in the large house and the separate apartment over the boathouse to accommodate all of them, and then some, but both fish and former hero felt that the newly-engaged couple should have the rest of the day to themselves, to take care of matters with the judge and the clerk, and for their own private celebrations.

Before they left, however, Roxanne whispered something into Megamind's ear that first drew a puzzled look to his face, then a hugely amused, wicked grin. He nodded, and she went for it. "Oh, by the way, Wayne, you do know that we'll expect you at the wedding."

The musician was genuinely surprised. "Really? I mean, I know things between all of us are changing, but I thought it might be a little too soon for something like that."

Megamind snorted. "And just how many friends do you think I have in this world, real or otherwise, Metro Doof? You and I go back almost as far as Minion and I — and don't forget, you _did_ have a hand in my meeting Roxanne in the first place. If we hadn't been fighting for years and she hadn't decided to try to do an exposé on the 'hoax,' she wouldn't've been in that alley, and I wouldn't've needed to rescue her, or call for you to help when she needed more than I could give."

The ex-villain's wry expression turned sheepish. "Besides, embarrassing as it is to admit it, you recognized that I'd fallen for her even before I did. You should be here for the wedding. It's only fair."

After so many years of trading banter with his old rival, Wayne found himself at an utter loss for words. He swallowed thickly, and for a moment, it looked as if he was seriously considering crying.

Roxanne managed to save him from that indignity with a devilish grin of her own. "Mykaal's right, and anyway, if you come, you'll solve one of our little problems. We want to keep this out of the media for now, which means not saying a word to anyone who might have loose lips or just forget themselves and blab before it's over. The more people who know, the more likely that is to happen. Unless the judge has some kind of legal problem with it, Minion will be the Best Man, of course — so Wayne, how would you like to be my Maid of Honor?"

The nascent tears suddenly turned to a beet-red flush, not quite matched by the purple of Megamind's face as he tried to keep himself from laughing and failed, for once not at all minding the loss. "Oh," he gasped, catching as much breath as he could amid his peals of laughter, "you should've waited until one of us had a camera ready, Roxanne, that look is positively priceless blackmail material!"

"Now, now," she chided, though she had to admit it was a ridiculous expression and she wasn't going to last much longer before dissolving into a puddle of hilarity, "heroes aren't supposed to be into blackmail!"

He was about to refute that — even heroes needed a little extra leverage, once in a while — when Minion reported, "Got it, boss!" holding up his cell phone with its camera.

All three of them were now totally gone into hilarity. Amid the ruckus, Wayne somehow managed to pull together his shreds of dignity and gave a reply. "Sure, I'll be your Maid of Honor, Roxie. Can I pick out the dress and shoes myself, or did you have something specific in mind? I don't think heels would be a good idea, unless you want me to be two or three feet taller than the two of you — and I wouldn't suggest anything sleeveless or off-the-shoulder or low-cut, not unless you want people who look at your wedding pictures to ask if the one in the gorilla suit and a dress is Minion's girlfriend."

His willingness to play along with the joke and expand on it had them all laughing, and so it was they went their ways in high spirits

* * *

Alexander Crenshaw had in his day been a lawyer, a judge, and a professor of law at a noted university, but never had he been a career politician. He had watched too many good people wind up corrupted by political machines with their promises of wealth and power, and that was a fate he did not want to suffer. Though he had been elected to his current job, he had and would never declare any party affiliation or even preference, believing as he did that when the party games began, impartiality went out the window. He had always done his best to keep an open mind in all the cases he heard, and that was impossible when the brain was already clogged with political bias. Like all judges, especially ones who had been teachers of law, he hoped to someday preside over a landmark case that would engrave his name in the annals of history. He'd enjoyed the fantasy, but being at heart realistic, he doubted that such would ever happen in the quiet little corner of the world he called home.

Until yesterday, when history had come walking through his office door in the form of a short, bald, blue-skinned and large-skulled alien whose single greatest heart's desire was to marry the girl of his dreams.

Crenshaw couldn't have asked for a better opportunity.

Granted, this wasn't a court case, nor was it apt to be earth-shaking, but Crenshaw had had a feeling for years that someday, some judge in or near Michigan would be asked to make some kind of ruling or statement regarding the rights of this individual who was an obvious extraterrestrial, but was also a legal citizen of the US. Various religious and racist groups would no doubt want to severely limit his freedoms, and by this judge's lights, that was morally reprehensible and absolutely unconstitutional.

He'd done his homework all right, and the evidence of medical and scientific study showed pretty darn conclusively that despite his appearance and certain dismissible differences, said alien was no less human than any other resident of the planet. Thus if he held to the tenets on which their country had been founded, this man — who was, in the final analysis, just that, a man, a male of a species that under the microscope would be called human without a moment's hesitation — was created as equal as all others, and could not be denied his certain inalienable rights. Only one thing was needed to seal the deal: the establishment of precedence, of official recognition by a member of the judiciary.

Oh, yes, Crenshaw wanted to perform this wedding. Desperately. Not only because he had seen with his own eyes just how very _humanly _in love this blue alien truly was, but because he wanted, as a fellow human — and yes, he believed that while their planets of origin and stages of evolutionary development may have differed, they were both still human, of no different flesh, as one author had put it over half a century ago — to officially recognize his rights as a full and legal citizen of the nation in sealing the bonds of matrimony between him and the woman who had willingly consented to be his wife.

Okay, so maybe he was being just a bit radical and revolutionary in his thinking — but so were the authors of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, the writings that were the over-neglected heart and soul and sinew of this land. Maybe making such a bold statement would lose him his job in the long run, but it was for the sake of battles such as this that he'd become a judge in the first place.

So when Megamind and Roxanne Ritchi showed up at his office before noon that Friday morning — as charming a couple as any Crenshaw had ever seen, not so much because of who they were but because in spite of their obvious differences, they were just as obviously happy as any other two ordinary kids who'd just gotten engaged — it was with great pleasure that he sat down with them to examine the necessary documents before signing his official waiver of the longer waiting period typical for folks from out of state. He duly noted that appended to Megamind's birth certificate were the legal documents that had granted him the status of a naturalized American citizen.

"You'll still need to fill out the regular paperwork at the county clerk's office and pay the fees to obtain the license," he told them as he finished his examination of the papers, "but since everything appears to be in order, there should be no problem. If there is, just give me a call and I'll rattle their cages a bit. Are you planning to keep your maiden name, Ms Ritchi, or use it only for professional purposes?"

Roxanne blinked. "I really never thought about it," she admitted. "I suppose that would make sense for my career, considering how the station and the network have been promoting me." The idea of calling herself by either of the only two names she'd ever heard appended to her fiancé's little-known real name — Blue or Megamind — struck her as a mite too odd for on-camera use.

"Well, it's not that unusual for women with established careers." Crenshaw smiled at the blue alien as he handed back their assorted paperwork. "I have to admit, I had no idea what your full proper name was until today. The various records I saw had everything from the old standby 'John Doe' to just 'Blue' to 'Megamind' to some pretty odd combinations of several, but I'll wager that 'Mykaal Thejhan' wasn't something the Michigan DOC concocted."

Roxanne's eyes widened as she looked at Megamind, surprised and querulous. "I found it in the recordings my parents left for me," he explained to both of them, hoping that the reporter would understand. "I learned the personal name when I was six, but the family name Thejhan didn't surface in the records until... well, very recently. About six months ago, actually. The governor was very helpful in getting the process of the full legal name change streamlined for me, but it still took a couple of months for everything to become official." He smiled crookedly. "Some things I still need in duplicate, with my legal name on one copy and the name everyone knows on another, just in case someone won't accept the real name. The governor at least got the DOT to issue me a driver's license combining the two — one less thing to carry around."

When Crenshaw returned their papers, Roxanne picked up the ex-villain's driver's license, ostensibly to hand it to him, but also to catch a quick glance at it. Sure enough, it showed his name as Mykaal "Megamind" Thejhan, date of birth December 3, 1974. It wasn't a bad picture of him, either, she noted with more than a bit of jealousy. The DOT was noted for taking some of the most godawful pictures of normally photogenic people, herself included, sad to say.

In her head, she tested the possibility, first pronouncing the name as her beau had. _**Thay**-zhan_. Roxanne Thejhan. Not the worst sounding name in the world, rather Eastern-exotic and certainly unique, though there _were_ professional matters to consider, as she'd said. She'd have to think about it and discuss it with Megamind before deciding. Personally, she thought that keeping Ritchi as her professional name was a good idea at least for now, but she needed to know whether or not this would bother him before making the decision. She'd entertained notions of offering him her last name if he wanted one, but that had been before she'd known he'd found his own true family name in the unusual recordings his parents had left for him in his escape pod. She wondered what the name meant, if anything. Yes, this would definitely need to be discussed.

While they were waiting for the judge's secretary to bring in the papers he would need to sign and seal before they took them to the county clerk to apply for the actual license, Crenshaw told the couple why he had volunteered to perform the ceremony, and why he would understand if they preferred to handle it otherwise.

"It _is _a little selfish of me, I admit," he said with an abashed smile. "But I can't tell you how tired I get, listening to the Fundies and the Skinheads and the Birchers constantly trying to shove their ideas of what's Good and Right and Pure down everyone else's throats. They're too narrow-minded to see that there's more to the universe than their own backyards and their own tiny minds."

"If you don't mind my asking," Roxanne ventured, ever the inquiring reporter, "why did you start giving so much thought to the issue of the rights of citizens of extraterrestrial origin? Is it just an extrapolation based on cases where the rights of other naturalized citizens came into question?"

Crenshaw waggled one hand. "Partly. It seems that we'll always have bigots who want to make second-class citizens of anyone who isn't Caucasian and born in the USA — never mind that some of the people they hate most, like Native Americans, lived and were being born here long before any Caucasian set foot in the New World. But living in an area with a high population of outsiders during the summer months, you hear a lot, both good and bad."

He leaned back in his brown leather executive chair, toying with a pen while he spoke. "A few years back, one of the bad sorts was a colleague of mine from my days as a law professor, in town for a week's vacation. My wife was off at one of her women's club meetings, so Brian and I went to a local sports bar one night to watch a Brewers-Cubs game on their big-screen TV and talk over old times. Brian had had a few and was gabbing up a storm when one of those headline news spots came on during a commercial break. The big regional news item was from Metro City, about how some new kind of super that was like a Metro Man gone bad had been stopped by Megamind, who was now being hailed the city's new hero for saving the day, not to mention a lot of lives."

He shook his graying brown-haired head. "Well, Brian had some choice things to say about _that, _and I won't whitewash it and say they were complimentary. For someone who knows the law well enough to teach it, he can be totally blind to parts of it when it suits him. He went on and on about how anti-discrimination laws couldn't possibly apply to Megamind because they hadn't been written with non-terrestrial aliens in mind, how he should be either locked up again or put on an electronic leash and monitored to protect _real_ citizens, because even if he _had_ given up a life of crime and paid his debts to society, he couldn't be allowed the same freedoms that good, decent, normal _humans_ deserved. His attitude was that since God didn't make _him,_ he didn't have any God given rights."

The judge sighed, watching Roxanne's face first pale, then flare with anger. He noted with some satisfaction that Megamind himself was remaining remarkably even-tempered — to be expected, of course, since he'd heard all this yesterday. "Brian's an idiot, but not as uncommon as he should be, sad to say. And he was dead wrong. If one accepts that God created the universe, then He created _everything _in it,on this world and on all other worlds. So if His intelligent creations are all born with certain inherent rights, it applies to them whether they were born on Earth or elsewhere.

"Trouble was, the _legal _precedent thus far has been that the courts can play as fast and loose with those rights as they want, when Megamind's concerned. It's partly their fault — that idiocy of issuing 'life sentences' like traffic tickets as a half-assed way to justify dragging him back to prison on a moment's notice and keep him there without the need and expense for formal charges or trials. And it's partly _your _fault, Megamind, for never appealing any of those sentences. The whole thing was the most miserable case of legitimized systematic abuse of an individual and the judicial system that I've ever seen, and it was all based on the so-called 'fact' that you weren't recognized as human when even direct and blind studies proved that you _are, _only racially and developmentally different. That this farce — this gross miscarriage of justice — was allowed to continue for over twenty years just gives more fuel to idiots like Brian MacKenzie, lets them keep on believing that if they can get away with it, it's okay. But it's not," Crenshaw declared firmly, convinced. "It's wrong, it's illegal, and it needs to stop."

Megamind smiled at the astonished look that now came over his intended's face. "See, you _were _right, Roxanne: he's a nice judge," the ex-villain said, smugly.

"He's a _very _nice judge," Roxanne corrected, offering Crenshaw a warm smile. "Not to mention a decent human being. And you want to officiate at our wedding to make a judicial statement?"

"In a way," the judge confirmed. "First, I want to see the two of you able to start a life together without getting arguments or hassle from less open-minded clergy or officials. But second, I want to set new precedent. If bigots insist on claiming that marriage _must _be between one man and one woman, then I want it on the record that in marrying you, I recognize that requirement to have been fully legally proven. You're a woman, he's a man, and you're both US citizens. Where you were born and what races you belong to are immaterial. And so are the opinions of people who want to create classes of underprivileged persons they can oppress and exploit and put down."

Having spoken his mind most emphatically, Crenshaw sat back in his chair and smiled as his secretary came in with the necessary documents for him to sign, along with the embossing seal that would mark them as having come from him. While he put pen to paper, he idly asked, "So, have you picked a date and a place for the happy occasion?"

When the couple said nothing but considered the secretary standing beside him with wary eyes, he glanced up, then chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about Mrs. Lindstrom," he said, gesturing toward the prim older woman. "She knows that if anything she hears in this office gets repeated outside it, she's worse than out of a job; she'll be sued for breach of contract. Standard employment condition for staff at this level, right Mrs. L?"

"Very right, your honor," she answered most properly, but with a small smile for the guests, by whom she didn't appear to be the least bit fazed. "Shameful, what some people will gossip about, just to show off or try to make money." When he was finished signing and imprinting the documents, she neatly folded them, slipped them into an envelope she'd brought before handing them back to the judge, then collected the seal and returned to her desk in the outer office.

Crenshaw smiled. "I had a bit of a problem when I first took this position with secretaries who were very friendly, and much too gabby after hours about what went on here. Confidentiality is a must in this job, and if my staff can't show discretion, they don't last. Mrs. Lindstrom's been with me for almost ten years, now." Which alone spoke well for her ability to remain discreet.

The judge slid open a desk drawer, brought out one of his business cards, and slipped it into the envelope before handing it to them. "That's all you need from me, just take it with you to the county clerk's office. I'll give Terry a call and let her know you're coming so she can handle things herself. And my number's on the card. If you decide you'd like me to officiate, I'd be honored. Just let me know the time and the place, and I'll be there."

Roxanne turned to look at Megamind, who was looking back, smiling faintly. When he inclined his head, graciously leaving the choice up to her, she realized that no choice needed to be made. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have do it," she admitted. "We have to decide the when and where ourselves, but once it's settled, you'll be the first to know."

"Or second," her beau corrected. "Thinking of which: will there be any problem if Minion's one of the witnesses? You can't make the same kind of argument for his humanity as you can for me, but he _is _a sapient, intelligent being in his own right — rather like a highly evolved dolphin, though from different originating species. In Michigan, he's recognized by the state as such and has legitimate citizenship status and protection under the law."

Crenshaw's answering smile was sly. "Then it's not a problem at all. The Constitution already provides for such situations. The pertinent clause was once used to keep people in slavery when they were moved into free states, but nowadays, it's more likely to be used to defend _against_ discrimination, from state to state. If the government of Michigan recognizes Minion as a free and legal adult citizen of the US in his own right, then he's one here, too. Nice that things can work out that way sometimes, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, the Commerce Clause," Roxanne said, remembering. "If I'm not mistaken, that was a big argument behind the ridiculous way Megamind's crimes were kept out of the courts. Someone argued that so long as he wasn't legally defined as 'human,' he could be denied basic human rights, despite being officially a US citizen. Without a ruling or precedent, the courts could do whatever they wanted."

Crenshaw nodded. "And because he never fought back or appealed, the sentences stood."

The sapient being in question flushed an interesting shade of purple. "I suppose I didn't do myself any favors by being proud of myself, then, did I? Although in my own defense, I really _did _believe that I was following my destiny, I had ever since I was six! It just... took time for me to understand how wrong I'd been."

Roxanne patted his knee. "There were extenuating circumstances, sweetie." When the judge arched one brow, curious, she smiled at him. "It's a long story — though all things considered, you might be just the right person to tell it to, when it's time. _If_ you're serious about wanting to establish precedence for the rights and treatment of extraterrestrials who become citizens of Earth, or at least the US."

"I am _very _serious," Crenshaw declared. "And I'd like to hear that long story, but not today. You two have other, more immediate, more _important _business to take care of. The wheels of justice move slowly, but a wedding, big or small, that's a once in a lifetime experience — or it _should_ be!"

* * *

Terry the county clerk turned out to be almost as nice a person as Judge Crenshaw. Her one not-so-nice aspect was her tendency to keep looking at Megamind as if she was afraid he wasn't real, that he was some hired actor and that she would at any moment find herself the butt of an elaborate practical joke. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that reaction from people (even Roxanne hadn't been the first, and all things considered, it was a much better response than disgust or fear or hate), so the blue hero was able to take it in stride without any problem. The farther along in the application process they went, the more relaxed the clerk became, though she didn't fully lose her wariness until everything was done and the couple was heading out the door.

As they left the building — which was quiet, since most of its workers were now out to lunch — Roxanne asked about Megamind's family name, of which she'd known nothing. "I didn't really plan on keeping it a secret forever," he admitted. "If you recall, back in late February, when you were sent to cover something in Detroit for a couple of days, I was _sheduled _to present an award to the _shkool_ with the highest scores in a city-wide science competition."

"I remember. I thought you said the program went well, the kids loved you."

He nodded. "They did, they had a lot of questions, too. The only one I couldn't answer was who my parents were. I just didn't know. I've always presumed they were scientists of some kind because of how they saved me and implanted the neural interface for Minion, but for all I really know, those things were done by someone else. So when I came home, I got the data recorder from my pod out of storage and tried to find some answers."

"Good thing I gave it back to you to put in your little wall safe after I moved in," she quipped. "And did you find what you were looking for?"

Now, the blue head shook. "Not really. I don't know why, but I have a feeling my parents didn't want me to know anything so specific about them — maybe because they were afraid I'd be disappointed in them, maybe because they didn't want me to feel disappointed about where they'd sent me. I did find a record where they mentioned that our family name is Thejhan. I still don't know what _their_ names were for certain; I _think_ they're Eliaan and Kyrel, but I'm not sure, of the names or whose is whose. But the family name — or clan name, I got the impression it was closer to that, a collective bigger than just a small family group — that was pretty clear. I wanted to go through all the official name-changing paperwork and surprise you with it when it was done, but that wound up happening around the beginning of July. I imagine you can understand why I didn't tell you then."

Roxanne sighed. "Unfortunately, yes, I understand. I'm glad I know now, though."

The green eyes favored her with a hesitant sidelong glance. "Does it sound too weird to you?"

She considered it for a moment. "Actually, no, it reminds me of some the shorter Hindu-type names I've heard. I wouldn't mind using it at all for my personal life, but the network might get a little upset about me dropping the Ritchi name, right now. They've been doing a big publicity push, trading on the familiarity of 'Roxanne Ritchi,' and they might get pretty angry if I asked them to change it."

Megamind saw her point. "It does make sense. I won't be offended if you decide you want to just keep it, all around. It's not like I've had enough time to get that attached to a name I first heard only six months ago."

"I suppose. But to tell you the truth, _I _like the idea of sharing a name with you in my private life. Remember, Ritchi was my father's name, and for years, I haven't had a lot of reason to want to stay attached to it, or to him. When I played around with the idea of us getting married, I thought that 'Roxanne Megamind' might sound a little strange, but it actually had less bad baggage attached to it than my dad's name. Thejhan has the benefit of being new to just about everyone, even you. It's almost like it popped up now just so we'd have a name to use together that could give us both a fresh start. Let's both sleep on it for a while. We don't need to decide anything right away." And that was fine with him.

They had reached the main entrance by then and headed out into the hot but pleasant summer afternoon. It wasn't until they were halfway down the stairs on their way to the car that Roxanne realized her normally fast-paced beau was suddenly lagging behind. She looked back and saw him moving slowly down the remaining steps, the biggest, silliest grin on his face that she had ever seen. "What?" she prompted.

Impossibly, the grin got even wider. "We actually did it," he said, as if uttering the most incredible, unattainable, inconceivable thing in all creation. He glanced back at the building's double doors and by inference to the license bureau they'd just left. "We're actually going through with it."

The brunette couldn't help but smile back, brushing back a few wind-tossed strands of her hair. "Of course we're going through with it," she said with the barest trace of amused exasperation. "After everything we've been through, especially since you woke me up this morning, I'd zap you with your own de-gun if we didn't!"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Megamind spluttered, waving his hands in a common gesture of halting and dismissal, stopping and erasing the erroneous train of thought. "I mean, you really _did _say yes — and you really _meant _it! Not that I'm implying that I didn't believe you when you did, of course you meant it, you aren't a liar, that's more my old style, but it didn't quite hit me until just this moment that — _you said yes!" _He fairly shouted it, his entire being lit up and quivering like a rocket about to launch. From the light in his eyes and the look on his face, Roxanne suspected that in another second or two, he just might.

And in a way, he did. He suddenly took her by the waist, lifted her up and spun about with her several times in a giddy, laughing dance that had a few passersby watching most curiously. "You said yes, you said yes, you said yes!" he caroled happily, not caring one bit who heard or who saw them as he set his fiancée back on her feet but did not let her go, instead leading her across the parking lot in an impromptu dance of sheer, uninhibited joy.

Roxanne laughed merrily as she danced along with him on their way to the car, equally uncaring of who might be watching and what they might think. She'd wondered how long it would be before Megamind finally hit the limits of his hard-won self-control and burst into his characteristic boyish glee — and now that it had happened, the feeling of elation it gave her was stronger than any shadows of worry over bigots and stalkers could ever be. They were going forward, together, and God help anyone who even thought to stand between them and their happiness.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	20. The Wedding Planner

_Author's Note: Sorry this took as long as it did, but recovering from the business trip is taking longer than I'd like – no doubt because the weather is no longer nice and sunny but cold and dark and disgusting. Where the heck is spring? Anyhoo, things progress, slowly but surely. My humble thanks, as always, to my faithful readers and reviewers! You are the oxygen in my creative space! :)_

* * *

XX

The Wedding Planner

Early Sunday morning, Wayne brought Minion — "airlifted," he jokingly referred to it — and all his gear in a spacious, and capacious, rented black SUV that was much better suited to carrying multiple large passengers than Roxanne's Corvette and had even better storage room than the Invisible Car. While the house certainly had enough room for him, Minion decided that for now, he preferred to take up residence in the apartment over the boathouse. "It's big enough for my needs and it's right on the water — what more could I ask?" he explained most cheerfully. What he didn't mention was the fact that he wanted to give his soon to be married friends enough space to feel truly alone when they wished it, and there was no need.

He brought with him a laptop computer that had been set up to communicate with their main console at the Lair and the two stealthbots still out tailing Mitchell. Having fallen for Wayne's deception by chasing about Indianapolis for several hours, looking for the non-existent biker rally, he arrived Friday night in Terre Haute, long after the rally there had ended. Determined to catch his quarry the next morning, he'd gotten up before dawn to stake out the highway on which the biggest group would be heading out for their next destination, Vincennes, Indiana. He'd had perhaps three hours' sleep, however, and wound up falling asleep on watch, his too-well noise proofed car muffling the sounds of the passing motorcycles so much that he slept right through it and didn't waken until almost two hours after they'd gone.

Incensed, he decided to hurry to catch up with them, and was caught by a state trooper and delayed even more while he was ticketed for going egregiously over the limit, his protests compounding the problem when the trooper decided his behavior warranted an alcohol check. Sneaker and Snooper caught some very amusing footage of the incident, after which a very annoyed Mitchell continued on, still speeding from time to time but always braking and dropping well below the speed limit the instant he saw any vehicle that looked official.

Because of the preparations for Minion's travel, the additional diversions were curtailed, though Wayne continued to keep an eye on things while his ex-rival's sidekick carried out his business. While Minion worked on setting up the laptop that would act as a remote communications link to the brainbots and Wayne kept an eye on the monitors, they talked, discussing mostly the upcoming wedding and the roles they had been asked to fill. The piscine hoped that Wayne hadn't been serious in his joke about coming in a dress, but the retired hero had merely smiled and said he was thinking about it.

By the time Minion was ready to leave on Sunday morning, Mitchell was somewhere in southeast Illinois, following the twists and turns of the Wabash River, heading toward the point at which it joined the Ohio River. He was growing increasingly frustrated, but thus far appeared determined to continue, although his erratic ability to remain in touch with his hacker friend — a problem the two stealthbots didn't have, as they didn't rely on the vagaries of cell phone signals to communicate with their masters — was becoming a concern to him. He'd told his cohort that if the situation didn't improve during that day's trip, he was going to skip the intermediate stops along the convoluted river land and head straight for St. Louis to await Roxanne's arrival.

"Well, at least that gives us a few more days before we need to start wondering what he's up to," was Megamind's considered opinion, offered as he helped Minion move his gear into the boathouse apartment. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of even thinking about that douche bag. He's not going to get what he wants, so why should we waste our time giving him the run around when we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves?"

"Oh, I agree, sir," his sidekick replied as he looked over the apartment and deemed it eminently suitable. "The remote isn't for us to keep checking up on him, it's to let the brainbots provide us with information when we want it. I'll look at it once in a while, but I have too many other things I want to do to bother with more than that!" He reached into one of his satchels and pulled out a thick folder full of clippings, sketches, printouts, fabric swatches — all the things one would expect a teenaged girl who subscribed to bridal magazines to have collected.

Megamind saw the thing, then smiled wryly as he shook his head. "How long have you been planning this, Minion? Ever since I reached puberty?"

The fish's dismissal came just a wee bit too easily. "Of course not! But ever since you and Ms Roxanne got serious about your relationship... Well, you know how much I've always wanted you to be happy, don't you, sir?"

The crooked smile softened. "Of course I do. You went along with anything I ever asked, because you wanted me to be happy, right down to getting into the whole evil villain thing when you didn't really believe in it. I didn't appreciate it the way I should've for too many years, but I do appreciate it now."

He looked at the folder, the smile now dimming as something occurred to him. "Minion, does it bother you that I asked Roxanne to marry me before I told you I was going to?"

He was startled by his guardian's answer. "Sir, you _did _tell me."

The green eyes looked up again, blinking furiously. "I did? When? Was I drunk? I don't remember being that drunk in years, though I suppose if I _was, _I wouldn't remember it — no, I'm pretty sure I wasn't..."

"You weren't," Minion assured him, setting aside his folder to place his hands on his ward's shoulders in an attempt to calm him. "You never actually said that you were planning to propose to Ms Roxanne. But I knew. For over a year, now, I knew that sooner or later, you'd ask her. You've had feelings for her for a long time, after all. When a relationship between the two of you stopped being a dream and became real, when you decided to change for her, I hoped that someday, you'd do this."

"And that doesn't bother you? That I changed, for her? You've been my friend, my family for a lot longer..."

The ichthyoid pulled a wry face. "Yes, but that isn't the same at all. You've complained that I treat you like an old mama fish, and I have, it was part of my job as your protector. But you're not a child anymore, sir, not by anyone's standards, and you don't need me to look after you."

"I'll always need you to be my friend," his ward said most sincerely.

Minion's smile was pleased and and just a bit smug. "Of course you will, and I promise I'll always be there for you, as a friend. But I know you need Ms Roxanne, too, and I'm glad she wants you and needs you in the same way. I only wish the two of you could've realized what you meant to one another a lot sooner, so you didn't have to live through so many painful things and could've been happy together a long time ago. But better late than never, right?"

He asked the question in such a cheerful manner, fins aflutter, that Megamind had to smile. "Yes, better late than never. You really are a fantastic fish, Minion. I wish _you_ could find the same sort of happiness, here."

Said fish winked. "Now, who says I won't? They say there's a lot of fish in the ocean, and maybe someday, they'll discover one in it who's just right for me. Until then, I'm perfectly happy being a part of your life, and Ms Roxanne's. So let's go back to the house so I can let her have a look at some of my ideas while I fix breakfast for everybody!"

* * *

Wayne had left shortly after dropping off Minion, saying that he had business of his own to deal with back home, and letting them know to give him a call if they needed or wanted anything from him. Given the early hour, Roxanne had gone back to bed while her beau and his fish worked on getting Minion settled into the boathouse apartment, and when breakfast was almost ready, Megamind had gone to wake her. When all three had taken seats in the breakfast nook, Roxanne enjoyed her coffee for a bit before beginning her meal, while the boys tucked in at once.

"You know, Minion," she said when she finally picked up her fork, the siren's call of the delicious aromas finally making her stomach rumble and her mouth water, "I've been thinking how odd it is, seeing you wearing clothes, lately." This morning, he was decked out in jeans and one of his boss's logo t-shirts, which left the brushed silver and otherwise quite human-like robot arms of his current back-up body visible. "Do you enjoy it, or is it pretty much of a nuisance?"

"A little of both," the piscine admitted as one of the arms held up a slice of crisp bacon for him to nibble on through the open hatch of the suit's glass-dome head. "Sir made this body to much more human proportions, so it's a lot easier to do things like ride in an ordinary car and fit into places that a gorilla suit won't go. It makes blending in easier, too, especially if I wear things with long sleeves. But it doesn't move in quite the same way as my usual habitat, so it took some getting used to, and I don't exactly have much of a wardrobe of my own. Having to wash the same clothes so often can be a nuisance, but not as big a one as needing to hose down fake fur when it gets dirty, especially with motor oil! Now _that's _a major headache!"

Roxanne nodded, considering all he'd said while she enjoyed her toast with fresh farm-made jam. "It sounds like it has some definite advantages. Why haven't you used it before?"

Minion glanced at Megamind, uncertain how he should answer. The blue hero saved him the trouble. "Because it bothered me to look at it," he admitted. "I spent the better part of a year working on that suit, trying to get it to look perfect and to mimic Metro Man's powers as closely as possible so that he could be tied up in a fight long enough for me to spring a trap on the city that would finally get him to admit defeat and leave just to save his precious Metrocity. You were there; you know what happened."

Roxanne did indeed. She'd been the usual bait to lure Wayne in on that occasion, about three years after she'd become a part of their ongoing rivalry. The suit had actually worked very well — for about thirty seconds. The one mistake Megamind had made was in inadequately shielding its power supply. In his eager haste to spring his perfect trap, he had left it too obvious, and as soon as Wayne had spotted it, he'd taken it out with his laser vision. The whole glorious plan turned into a particularly humiliating defeat, because that one stupid flaw had been trumpeted by the press as proof that rather than being a criminal genius, Megamind was clearly a low-grade moron, giving his spectacular creation a weakness that any two year old with a butter knife could have exploited. To her shame, Roxanne had been the first of those who had so reported the event.

Now, feeling bad about it — even though it had happened nearly ten years ago — she reached out and caressed his hand where he'd set it beside his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "I'm sorry I never apologized for that, sweetie," she said, putting as much sincerity as she could summon into the words. "I thought you were foolish for making a mistake like that, but I knew you weren't stupid, and I'm sorry I called you that on the air. I have to admit that I was surprised when you didn't fix it and try again. It really looked like a plan that could've worked."

He shrugged, still clearly deflated. "Not in the long run. I couldn't make the materials invulnerable, just very, very strong, and if the fight had continued, Minion could've been badly hurt, or killed. Shielding the power source wouldn't've changed that. I really wanted to just melt the whole thing down the next time I escaped, but Minion thought it'd be a shame after all the work I'd put in on it, so we kept it as a backup. I just couldn't bear to look at until recently, so it stayed in storage."

"But you let him use it now."

Megamind sighed. "There wasn't a lot of choice. All those battles with the Terror Trio had destroyed or severely damaged all of the other backups, and when his primary suit was pretty much wrecked during that last showdown, I was just too exhausted to get around to fixing it right away."

"You were hurt, sir," Minion pointed out, both sympathetic and firm. "And unlike me, you can't change into some other robot suit and be as good as new until you're healed. You needed time, and there was this for me to use. It was the logical thing to do — and I should've told you sooner, but I was really proud of you when you agreed to let me use it."

The green eyes looked up even though the half-bowed head did not lift, like a child hearing praise when he'd expected punishment. "You were? Why?"

"For a couple of reasons. You admitted that you needed to rest when you were hurt, which is a major improvement over arguing that you don't need to rest until you collapse. And when you said it was okay for me to use it without putting up a fight, I thought you'd finally gotten over all the bad feelings connected with it — or were at least willing to try. That's a lot to be proud of, given how you used to just snap out NO whenever the idea came up. And that's why I've tried as hard as I can not to use clothes that look like anything Mr. Wayne might wear, to help you get past all that."

Now, the blue head lifted, along with his spirits. "That was considerate of you. I suppose you're right, it's time I stopped being so touchy about it. The whole thing happened years ago, and I did put a lot of hard work into making it. It'd be a shame to keep letting it go to waste."

"That's right," was his sidekick's enthusiastic agreement.

To help end the matter, Roxanne reached over, turned the blue head to face her, then leaned forward to give him a long, loving kiss. He accepted it without hesitation, but regarded her curiously when she ended it. "That's a promise of a better apology later," she explained with a coquettish smile. "I really am sorry for starting that whole humiliating bit with the media. In fact, there're probably other incidents I should apologize for, too. I was awfully mean to you, sometimes."

Now, the ex-villain managed a sly smile of his own. "Yes, I suspect I owe you a few apologies, myself," he said, leaning forward to return the kiss.

Minion sighed and rolled his eyes. "Now you can see why I want to stay out in the boathouse. Do the two of you want to do your 'apologizing' first, or can it wait until after I've at least had a chance to show Ms Roxanne some of my ideas?"

That ended the kiss as the couple broke out laughing. "Minion has aspirations of being a wedding planner," his ward told his fiancée as they returned to their breakfasts. "I suppose the apologies can wait. I just hope you don't get carried away with this," he warned his sidekick, leveling his fork at him like a threatening weapon. "No three-rung-circus, remember."

Minion seemed not at all cowed. "It's 'ring,' sir, and I know, the idea is to keep it simple — there'd hardly be enough time for more! But simple can still be elegant, beautiful... oh, I'm just excited because I get to work on something really special that isn't villain or hero related for a change! And I have so many ideas! I hope you're not offended, Ms Roxanne..."

Roxanne chuckled at the fish's breezy enthusiasm. "Actually, it's kinda nice. My own mother would be fighting against the whole wedding, and even if she accepted it, she'd be insisting on having everything done her way. Which means then my father would want to do everything exactly the opposite, and it'd turn into another one of their ugly wars that have nothing to do with me. And most of the single women I know are either way too into the whole idea of the big fairy tale wedding, or they figure keep it cheap and fast, like the marriage is bound to be."

Megamind harrumphed. "This marriage is _not _going to be 'cheap and fast.' And you deserve whatever _you_ want, Roxanne," he stated flatly, surprised when she shook her head.

"No, Mykaal. We both deserve whatever _we _want. And I know that that's what Minion wants for us, too. Isn't that right?"

The piscine blinked when she turned to him, then grinned toothily. "That's _exactly_ right! I have ideas, but I only have them because I want this to be a special occasion for both of you. It isn't about anyone else, after all."

She nodded. "That's what I thought. And that's why I don't mind you wanting to offer your ideas for making it nice. Like the judge said, this is a once in a lifetime thing, and I do want it to be memorable, just not some ridiculous extravaganza. So, what kind of ideas _do_ you have?"

Thus encouraged, Minion happily babbled on about those ideas while they finished their breakfast. Most involved things like clothing and flowers and food and where they were thinking to have the ceremony take place and what kind of cake he should bake. While he was happy to discuss generalities of fabric and such with the bride-to-be, when she asked to see his sketches and the pictures he'd clipped, the would-be wedding planner was hesitant. When he glanced at his boss, who was collecting the dirty dishes, Roxanne got the hint.

"Why don't you leave that for us, hon, and go work on fixing Wayne's Harley," she suggested. When he answered with a totally bewildered expression, aware that he was being deliberately shooed away, she clarified. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding."

Megamind made a perfectly skeptical face. "Why?"

Roxanne spread her hands. "I don't make up the old wives' tales, I just report 'em. If you don't like the superstitious reason, then just look at it as a nice extra surprise for you when the day comes. I promise I won't ask Minion to show me anything he's got planned for you, so we can surprise each other."

The ex-villain frowned. "Is _everything _about a wedding supposed to be a secret or a surprise?" he wanted to know, bemused. "I thought you wanted to pick out the rings or settle on a design for them, together."

"No, not everything is supposed to be a secret, silly," she readily assured him. "I'm not even sure why people still think it's bad luck about the dress thing, but why tempt fate?" Her wink said that she didn't believe it either, but was willing to humor Minion.

After taking a second to let things process, Megamind got it. "Oh. Okay," he surrendered, leaving the dirty dishes for them to take care of and starting for the garage. Just as he reached the corridor, he paused to glance back over one shoulder with a positively wicked smile. "Just don't take all day with it. I've thought of a few things I need to... apologize for." A leftover piece of toast went sailing after him as he hurried on, his laughter ringing in his wake.

* * *

An hour or three later, Roxanne had to admit that she was very impressed with Minion's ideas for the wedding — those he would share with her, anyway. In keeping with her promise not to ask to see what he had in mind for the groom, he showed her nothing of that, and she did her best not to ask. It was difficult, because for a fish — heck, even for a human — Minion's sense of fashion design was as remarkable as Megamind's hidden flair for architectural design, and he had an excellent eye not only for what Roxanne might like, but for what would look good on her.

"Won't this take weeks to make?" she had to ask when they had pretty much settled on a design she really liked. It was neither overly simple nor absurdly elaborate — elegant definitely described it best, but she knew how sometimes, things that looked simple were anything but when it came to the actual construction.

Minion, however, shook his head (or in his case, his entire fishy body). "Oh, no, it's really not all that different in basic structure from the dress I made for your birthday, and I already have all your measurements. I know places in Metro City where all the materials I'll need are available, and if Mr. Wayne would pick them up for me and bring them along with Pinky and Splice and Little Nipper, I could have it done in just a day or two. They may be only brainbots, but they're great helpers when it comes to sewing. I was hoping you'd want me to help, so I've already brought my other equipment. And don't tell Sir that I told you this, but I've already started on his things. I know the sort of styles he likes, and if I mention how well my ideas for him will go with what you chose, he won't argue at all."

Roxanne didn't doubt him one bit. She thought about what they were also asking of Wayne, and though she knew he'd be delighted to help, she couldn't help but wonder about something else. "Wayne isn't really planning to wear a dress to the wedding, is he?"

Minion both chuckled and sighed. "I'm pretty sure he was just kidding about that, but he's definitely got _something_ he's planning. I've warned him that it better not upset either of you, and I don't think he would, but I don't know for sure. We haven't been on friendly terms that long, after all."

That was true enough. "Well, he and I were friends a lot longer, so I suppose he wouldn't want to pull anything that would make me angry. Though when he brings you the things you need, I might just give him a little reminder of how I'd make his life a living hell if he _does _try to pull some stupid or tasteless stunt."

The ichthyoid bared his teeth in a predatory expression he seldom showed. "If he even dares to try, he'll regret it. That's a promise, Ms Roxanne." And despite the fact that Wayne was a big, invulnerable mountain of muscle and Minion a little fish, she knew the threat was quite valid.

* * *

With this part of things settled, Roxanne left Minion to call Wayne while she headed out to the garage to see how Megamind was faring. She had no doubt that he was in a good mood; the strains of classic rock blaring from the radio were almost as loud as the sound of him singing along. She'd been living in the Lair long enough to know that he only sang along when he was in high spirits, and though she heard no noises of power tools or hammering nor caught the smell of solder or welding, she figured that whatever he was up to was going well.

When she peered around the jamb of the open side door, Roxanne saw that the motorcycle appeared to be completely reassembled, though its paint job was still in seriously bad shape. Megamind was seated at the work bench, hunched over something small that he was working on with meticulous care. Given the volume of the music — loud, but fortunately not loud enough to disturb any neighbors, which fortunately weren't very close, anyway — he hadn't heard her approach, and he was so intent on his work that he hadn't seen her, either. She was about to attempt to get his attention when she paused instead, simply to look.

Roxanne had long since grown used to seeing all the faces of energy that were so typical of Megamind, ranging from purely manic, like the chain reaction of massive explosive forces going out of control, to clearly focused and directed, like the beam of a cutting laser. But she very seldom saw that energy as she saw it now: calm, relaxed, contained but not restrained, like the force of nature that slowly but inexorably transforms a small seed into a beautiful living thing. He was simply happy, in a way that he so seldom experienced, a happiness untainted by stress or expectation or any outside force that would seek to diminish it or alter it.

Now more than ever, Roxanne thanked God that they had taken this opportunity to escape the pressures of their everyday lives, to take the time to properly heal from the wounds of both body and spirit — and she would not let anyone or anything cheat them of one minute of this time away that they had both so dearly earned. Every moment of pure peace and pleasure was a tonic to be greedily hoarded, so that their armor against the strains of the world would be strengthened, and the memories of carefree happiness recalled to be a remedy that would help them through the difficulties their jobs would certainly bring them, time and again. And she made a promise to herself as she watched him: she would never again let the demands of their work and the world keep them from taking the time to properly rest and recover and relax. The cost of ignoring that basic human need was far too great, and she refused to pay it, for herself or for him.

The song on the radio came to an end; in the pause that followed, she rapped on the door to get her fiancé's attention. "Is it safe to come in?" she asked with a mischievous smirk, the question one she'd learned the hard way to use before entering the labs and workrooms around the Lair.

He looked up, smiled brightly to see her there, and reached over to turn down the volume on the radio. "So, how did the wedding planning go?" he asked cheerfully as he removed his protective goggles. "Did you like Minion's ideas, or has he been reading too many issues of those bridal magazines?"

Roxanne chuckled as she came closer to see what he'd been working on. "Actually, I think he could get a side job in the field, if he wanted. He'd thought of just about anything we might want, from the small, intimate wedding we're planning to a big blow-out. He's just as happy that we're going for small, he thinks it's a lot more romantic."

Megamind sniffed even as he grinned. "I told you, he doesn't keep being a romantic in the closet, he just hides it from me because I've teased him about it for years. Do the two of you have everything settled?"

"Not everything, just things like my dress and the flowers — he was very insistent about that, there must be flowers. I thought you should be consulted about some of the other things. He really wants to make the cake, but I don't think he should cook the meal, even if it's only for the four of us. He's supposed be a part of the celebration, not the caterer, after all."

"I'll talk to him," the ex-villain promised. "And I suppose we need to decide where we want to actually have the ceremony."

She nodded. "I'd really rather not do it in the judge's office, and while Minion suggested that a ceremony here in the house or on the shore could be very nice, I was thinking of—"

"—Cave Point," they said in unison. "Exactly what I was thinking," he added. "This house and the land is very nice, but it still belongs to the Scotts, not to either of us. And I've sort of... grown attached to the Point." An odd but nonetheless fond smile crossed his long face.

Roxanne's answering smile mirrored his. "I know, that's just what I'd been thinking. The only problem I might have with it is the fact that it _is _a public park, and does attract a lot of visitors. It wouldn't have much in the way of privacy."

His smile turned impish. "Unless we kidnap each other at dawn. Minion and Wayne might not care to get up quite so early, but Minion would be there whenever we ask, and I figure it would be a suitable payback for Wayne making us get up even earlier to fly us across the lake."

"I'm more concerned about Judge Crenshaw," was his fiancée's opinion. "He's not exactly a young man, and it might be asking too much, planning a dawn wedding."

Megamind had to agree that that was a more significant point. "Well, we can ask and find out how he feels about it before making any decisions. We still have to wait for the license, and for Minion to do whatever he's planning to do. I don't want him to miss out on enjoying this place because he's spending all his time working on our wedding. As a matter of fact, I was thinking that now that we have a bigger vehicle at our disposal, we can drive down to Ephraim today and pick up my windsurfing gear from Jason. I called him about it earlier, and he's going to be giving lessons off Eagle Harbor all day, so we can drop by almost any time."

"And I doubt that Wayne will be able to pick up everything Minion wants today, seeing that it's Sunday and most of those specialty shops will be closed. It's a good plan, you can show him what you've learned, and he can decide whether or not it's safe enough yet to go into the water with you."

Pretending to be miffed, he stuck out his tongue, and she laughed. "That would _never _be an issue," he replied most emphatically. "Tearing him away from his sewing machine when he's in the middle of a project — now _that _can be a problem!"

"I'm sure he won't put up a fight, not until he gets all the supplies he wants, anyway. What have _you _been working on?" she wondered, finally noticing that the things he'd set down didn't appear to be parts for the motorcycle.

"Oh, just tinkering. I finished what I can do with the bike about half an hour ago. It'll need new tires before it can be taken out on the road; these are so old, they wouldn't last even a mile before cracking. When we go back to Sturgeon Bay to pick up the license, I can get replacements."

Roxanne picked up the bit of metal he'd been working with. It was a solid metal fitting, very ring-like in shape, on which he'd been attempting various etchings. She favored him with a wry glance. "So, you're doing your own wedding planner things, hmm?"

He blushed an interesting shade of lavender. "Well, I had the leftover parts and they got me to thinking about ring designs. I've decided that while I may have a number of artistic talents, ring making is _not _one of them. That's about my tenth try, and you can see how it just isn't working."

"Maybe you just need the right tools," she offered charitably, privately agreeing that this wasn't his best work but kindly keeping the opinion to herself, since he already shared it.

"Maybe," he allowed, also aware of her true opinion. "But I think I'll leave this to the professionals. Just playing around with engraving, I kept finding myself thinking of things like 'one ring to rule them all,' and that's _so_ not right!"

"You've got that right," Roxanne agreed. The attempt at etched filigree work on the bit of metal was interesting, but lacked the right focus to be artful, no doubt because it was done on the wrong material with improper tools. "Well, I don't see any reason why this has to be a total do-it-yourself thing," she said as she set down the bit of metal. "I think the engagement ring you picked out is gorgeous, and if the jeweler who made it does as nice a job with wedding bands, I'd like to give him our business."

"Oh, he did have some very nice things," Megamind said distractedly as he tossed the attempted engraving into a wastebasket and started to put away the tools he'd been using. He stopped suddenly, turning wide eyes to the brunette. "You really do like the ring?" he asked, sounding rather like a little boy who had just given a Valentine to his first sweetheart. "You didn't really say, and I was afraid you wouldn't..."

Roxanne smiled as she draped her arms around his neck and gave him a light kiss. "I love it," she assured him. "Did Wayne's crack about how much it cost make you feel bad because you didn't spend enough?"

The blue head shook. "No, I sort of thought that maybe I spent too much. I didn't even think about the price, I just got what I thought was the most beautiful stone and setting I could find, what you might like, what sort of said what I was feeling. Since I don't actually get paid any kind of salary, when Wayne mentioned that rule of..." He hesitated, uncertain of the correct colloquialism.

"Thumb?" his bride to be suggested.

"Thumb," he repeated, grateful for the prompt. "When he mentioned that, I thought he was saying it was too _oostentatious."_

She sniffed, moving her hand between them to watch the sparkle of even the artificial light off the flawless diamond. "It's not. It really is beautiful, Mykaal, and I think the setting does say a lot. I told you that I wanted whatever we had going between us to last forever, and I can't think of anything that says that more simply and clearly than an infinity loop."

He sighed, relieved by her approval. "That's exactly what I thought when I first saw it. I picked the platinum setting because silver's more my color than gold, but if you'd prefer that..."

"Not at all. I love it just the way it is. But I do have to admit, I'm a little curious about the stone. Does that jeweler have high quality diamonds like this on hand all the time?"

The glints of reflected light from the faceted gem danced across their faces as she gently wriggled her fingers. Again, the blue hero shook his head. "No, it was just luck. He'd gotten the stone in late January as a special order for a customer who was planning to propose on Valentine's Day with a June wedding in mind, but after the guy put down a deposit to get the order placed, he never saw him again. He was going to try to sell it off to some bigger jeweler if no one bought it before the end of August, when the local high season's over. It was never set, so it's not like you're getting the stone from someone else's ring, you're the first person to wear it. But I thought it was beautiful the second I saw it, so I didn't really care how much it cost. It was perfect, like you, and I wanted you to have it."

It was Roxanne's turn to sigh, feeling her insides melt from the warmth of what she knew was his absolutely sincere flattery. "How can a girl resist a guy with lines like that?" she asked, any spoken answer lost in the lingering kiss she gave him. Neither of them were in a rush to end it, nor to move out of their loose embrace when they finally did.

She looked down at her left hand where it still rested against his t-shirt clad chest, the stone on the ring catching every tiny flicker of light. She giggled. "Okay, at the risk of sounding crass, how much _did _you pay for it?"

Megamind was amusingly evasive. "Let's just say that it's been a few years since Mr. Andersen saw a black metal credit card and leave it at that."

Now, she laughed fully. "Ah, you had to pull out the I've Got More Money Than God Card, fair enough. C'mon, Mr. I Really Enjoy Being Generous, let's go see if Minion's got things squared away with Wayne so we can introduce him to the idea of taking a vacation before he gets himself tied up playing wedding planner."

The sad look her beau gave her was just shy of a full-blown pout. "But I thought we might spend a little time apologizing first..."

She kissed the tip of his nose instead, tracing one finger down the curve of his goateed chin. "Not now, lover boy, you'll need some of that energy to show Minion your stuff in the water."

"Oh, all right," he sighed, feigning the need to surrender. "But tonight?"

"Tonight. Promise."

* * *

Elsewhere — on the river country backroads about fifteen miles outside the small town of Grayville, Illinois — Stewart Mitchell had finally had enough of evading police, attempting to track down elusive hordes of motorcyclists, and contending with ridiculously erratic cell phone signals. Just beyond Grayville lay the juncture with an east-west expressway that would take him to St. Louis, where he could at least enjoy fewer hassles and greater comfort while waiting to surprise Roxanne Ritchi. Frankly, he couldn't imagine why she would be interested in such a barbaric excuse for a vacation, or why anyone in her right mind would choose that and turn down a chance to spend two weeks in Cancun with a handsome, well-heeled escort who would lavish her with every luxury he could afford.

Of course, she'd also turned down Wayne Scott and his family fortune, so Mitchell guessed that she might not have a proper appreciation for the finer things in life. Which was yet another reason he had to find her and persuade her that their last conversation hadn't been harassment, rather the earnest pleas of a man who only wanted to give her what was best for her.

The more he thought about it, the more going directly to St. Louis seemed to be the wisest approach to the matter. Instead of trying to chase her down, he could make preparations, plans that would be sure to sweep her off her feet and gently persuade her into seeing her errors, especially in the matter of male companionship. Oh yes, he would show her that the better man was a man and not a... _thing._

That had been his plan, anyway. His car had other ideas. About seven miles from Grayville and somewhat farther than that from I-64, his beloved Mercedes broke down. On a sunny, hot summer Sunday afternoon, on an empty country road that he'd taken as a shortcut back to the main highways and the interstate. And with a cell phone signal so weak, he might as well have had no phone at all.

He was fortunate in that he didn't have to wait more than an hour or so before someone finally came by who was willing to give him a lift into town. He was unfortunate in that the only towing service available on a Sunday afternoon charged two arms and three legs, and that no car repair services would be open until Monday. Rental wasn't an option; the nearest place that would rent anything other than a moving truck was over twenty miles away, and it was also closed on Sundays.

There was, however, a motel in town, one of the cheap national chains. After he'd spent the better part of the afternoon waiting for his car to be towed to the one closed repair shop that had any hope of doing decent work on a Mercedes — his presence having been required by the tow truck driver, to prove that the vehicle in question belonged to him, and to make sure that he paid for the tow immediately — he was able to get a room in the motel to wait for his car to be fixed. After all he'd been through the last few days, he wasn't about to abandon his Mercedes, his one means of getting back to civilization.

He was glad, therefore, to find that small though Grayville might be, it at least had a land line phone in his motel room. He was finally able to get in touch with his cohort, Leo Zaleski, back in Metro City, to see if anything new had come up during his myriad aggravations of the day.

"Please tell me you haven't found more irritating pictures," he told the hacker once he had him on the line, gritting his teeth without realizing it. "I'm not in the mood for more games of town-to-town tag or highway hide-and-seek."

"Can't say I blame you," Zaleski chortled, more amused by Mitchell's tale of the day's tragedies than sympathetic. "Actually, there haven't been any new photos showing up on the net from the biker rally, but I did spot an interesting item on Channel 63 this morning."

Mitchell frowned. "Channel 63? What the hell is Channel 63?" For anyone else in the television news business, admitting he didn't know all the local stations in his own market would have been an embarrassment, but at the moment, he was beyond caring.

"Public access channel," the hacker explained, "one of those low power things run by the students of the local technical college. It's usually full of exciting things like shows for the school board, peewee league soccer, and the sewerage district meetings, but on Sunday mornings, they run some local interest talk shows. I usually give 'em a miss, but since you're paying me, I've kept an eye on a few of 'em. 63 has a program called Metro World News on Sundays, basically a gossip rag about the city elite."

"I've seen it," Mitchell grumbled, remembering. "It's mostly self-promotion garbage about how influential Metro City companies are around the country, the posh places where all the city's wealthy movers and shakers and social snobs are traveling, that sort of crap."

"Right. Well, seems that this last week, a friend of the mayor's wife came back from vacation with an interesting home video of some kid getting rescued after a boating accident in one of those little towns on Green Bay."

The producer made a rude noise. "What's so interesting about that? Did the kid die?"

"Nah, she wasn't hurt much at all, just thrown off her water skis and knocked out without a life vest. The interesting part was who did the saving."

Mitchell frowned. "Not Megamind?"

He could hear Zaleski's grin. "Why would I bother to mention it if it wasn't? Yeah, it was him all right. No huge deal, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time and saw the kid go under. But the family thought it was exciting, and they wanted to see it hit the news _somewhere_, so the mayor's wife passed it on to Channel 63. They would've done better putting it up on YouTube, if you ask me."

But the stranded schmuck didn't hear most of what the hacker had said, beyond his confirmation of the rescuer's identity. "When did this happen?"

"Sometime this last week or two, they didn't say exactly when. Interesting, isn't it, how we've been seeing pictures of those two on the road in Illinois and Indiana, when someone else has been catching video of 'em up near Green Bay."

"Did they say where they saw him?"

"Yeah, some little burg called Ephraim. It's a pretty popular vacation spot with the green set, but it's not very big. It shouldn't be too hard to track 'em down, if I can crack the local hotel reservation system. It's a pretty unified one up there, at least for the decent places to stay."

"But that's all, just that one video. No other photos or mentions of sightings or anything in that area."

"Just the one video," Zaleski confirmed. "Are you thinking it's a fake? Wouldn't be impossible, with some of the video editing systems out there."

Mitchell's frown deepened as he struggled to get all his thinking gears engaged. "I don't know. It's possible. Shit, anything's _possible. _That video could've been planted to get me running off north, or the photos we've been seeing could've been planted to send me down here on a wild goose chase. The only thing that's probably real was that interview in Milwaukee, but they could've done it and then headed in the opposite direction they said they were going."

"Pretty sneaky, either way," was the hacker's opinion.

Mitchell snorted. "What do you expect, Megamind's a lifelong criminal — of _course _he'd be dragging poor Roxanne into his twisted ways! That's why I've _got _to get her away from him. He's going to ruin her life, and she can't even see it!"

Zaleski had no feelings one way or the other on that subject; all he cared about was what he was getting paid to do. "So do you want me to check out the story on that video, see if I can find anything to support it? There might not be anything more than the word of whoever submitted it. Those public access stations aren't exactly the height of investigative journalism, y'know."

"You might as well look into it," the producer decided after a long minute of constipated thinking. "I won't be going anywhere until at least later tomorrow. I was in the Ephraim area, once — boring little backwater place, never understood what anyone thought was so wonderful about it. Even if it turns out to be where they are, I'll need my car to get there, it's that primitive. And if they're sticking to the vacation schedule Roxanne has with KMCP, they won't be back until Labor Day. That gives me two full weeks to find her and come up with a plan to get her away from that little blue freak long enough to have a serious heart-to-heart, human-to-human talk with her. It shouldn't be too hard; he sticks out like the rotten apple he is. And if you find out that the video's a hoax, I'll just continue on to St. Louis and see her there on Wednesday. It's not like she knows I'm tracking her down, after all. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

_To be continued..._


	21. The Last Details

_Author's Note: A huge and much-appreciated thank you to all my lovely, patient readers and reviewers! Dark chocolate eggs all around! It's been a bit of a depressing week for me, as my arm suffered a bit of a relapse, but things are once again on the mend, the reviews have been most encouraging, and I am finally heading into the home stretch of this long, long tale. There will be a deliberate delay to the next chapter, for two reasons: it needs to be as near to perfect as I can get it, and I very much want to post it on Friday, April 29th, to coincide with the Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. What can I say, beneath this crusty, curmudgeonly old exterior is a closet romantic (no doubt hiding in that same closet with Minion). Until then, enjoy!_

* * *

XXI

The Last Details

By the end of the day on Sunday, Minion had been introduced to many of the intriguing activities and places on the Green Bay side of the peninsula, beginning with the watersports in and around Eagle Harbor and the beauty of the 150 foot high bluffs of Peninsula State Park, overlooking the western edge of the harbor. Megamind's boast that Minion wouldn't really care about his proficiency as a windsurfer was accurate; they had been discussing the idea of someday giving the sport a try, the fish would've been delighted even if his boss hadn't been able to do more than stand up on the board for two minutes before flopping into the water. When he demonstrated his ability to do much more than stay upright, Minion couldn't wait to get out of his robotic suit and into the water.

Roxanne was still a little weirded out when helping him make the transfer from habitat to the open lake; she'd given him a hand a few times before, and while she didn't mind touching Minion, it was the sight of the "dead" robot suit that gave her the creeps. But it went quickly this time, and she'd decided to bring her swimming suit and at least join them on the water, using a small catamaran she'd borrowed from Jason. She still hadn't quite mastered the art of sailing on her own — though Jason had shown both of them the ropes after two of the blue hero's surfing lessons — but it was enough for her to be out there on the lake with the two aliens happily darting about her in their gleeful play. They were kind enough to occasionally slow enough so that she could keep up, and even stopped a few times to join her, Megamind perching on one edge of the little craft while Minion floated and paddled in the water about them.

By mid-afternoon, the two non-piscines were feeling sufficiently waterlogged for the day, so they headed in, bringing the borrowed boat and the windsurfing gear to Jason's pier, where Minion's cybersuit awaited his return. The instructor had left open the door to his boathouse, where there were shower and changing facilities for the two humanoids. While Roxanne cleaned up, Minion, back in his robot body, helped Megamind load the windsurfing gear into and atop the SUV, and when they were done, they headed on to their next destination.

When Minion had let them know that he would be coming to join them on Sunday, they'd called Sunny at the leather shop in Fish Creek to inform her of the fishy tailor's day of arrival. She'd been excited to hear the news, as Toby was also going to be in town on the same day, delivering some commissioned items for the shop. Minion had already heard the tale of Megamind's ex-con, leather-crafting fan, and he was as interested in meeting the fellow as Toby was keen to meet them. As it was still high season, the store was open into the evening despite it being a Sunday, and they had agreed to drop by the shop later in the afternoon.

Toby turned out to be a big man, even taller than Minion in his current cybersuit, broad-shouldered, black-haired, and dark-eyed, with weathered tanned skin and an unexpectedly bright, cheerful smile. He dressed like a fairly typical biker because he was one, but his clothes were neat, and it was clear that he wanted to make a positive impression on those he was going to meet. Megamind was a little overwhelmed by the man's size and his energy, the former of which was more like Wayne, and the latter of which was more like his own. But Toby was so thrilled to meet the small alien he'd looked to as a role model, the ex-villain suspected he could've had two heads, purple hide, a tail, forked tongue, feathers, and horns and the guy still would have welcomed him with open arms.

They hadn't been in the shop for more than ten minutes before Sunny noticed Roxanne's ring, which then set off a flurry of congratulations and excitement and eventually a deep discussion between Toby and Minion concerning such things as wedding clothes, with which Minion had no experience but Toby had a surprisingly fair amount. Minion was reluctant to go into all the details of what he'd been planning with both the bride and groom present, so they absented themselves for a while by visiting the jeweler's shop across the small parking lot.

Max Andersen, the owner and goldsmith, had been thinking of closing for the day just before they arrived, but he was delighted to remain open for as long as the celebrated couple wished. He was very glad to hear that Roxanne was more than happy with her fiancé's selection. He did indeed have a number of remarkably beautiful things, from very simple to elaborate and utterly unique, but it didn't take them very long to decide on what they wanted among the rings. There was already a wedding band intended to match and be worn with the engagement ring, and when Roxanne spotted one particular ring among the men's selections, she knew which one she wanted.

"Do you know your ring size?" she asked Megamind after her ring had been chosen, while he was peering at an intricate wire-wrapped pendant in a tall glass showcase, trying to determine just how it had been made.

"No," was his blunt, somewhat distracted answer. "Why, did you see something you like?"

"Yes. Can you measure him, Mr. Andersen?"

The jeweler nodded, and while he was went to a back room to fetch his sizing implements, the former villain turned away from the pendant to see what had caught his lady's eye. "Which one?" he asked, curious.

Her smile was secretive. "Uh-uh, you got to surprise me with my engagement ring, so I want a chance to surprise you with this."

Megamind's nose went reliably out of joint. "You mean I don't get to see it now? I thought we were going to decide this together! What if I hate it? Will I be stuck having to wear something I don't like because of some ridiculous rule like not seeing a dress too soon or—"

She rolled her eyes, faintly exasperated. "Don't whine, sweetie, it's unbecoming for a superhero. And relax, if you hate it, you don't have to wear it, but I don't think you will. I know, I did say we'd decide together, but when I saw this, I changed my mind. Woman's prerogative."

Now, he was definitely pouting. "That doesn't seem fair..."

"It isn't," she had to admit. "But I really think this would be nicer as a surprise. C'mon," she cajoled, using all the wiles she needed to wrap him around her little finger — which wasn't much, merely a doe-eyed look, a bat of the eyelashes, and a come-hither little smile. "Let me have this one, I promise I won't ask for any other little surprises or secrets. I just want to have a chance to see your beautiful green eyes light up the way I'm sure mine did."

As predicted, Megamind maintained his sulk for perhaps two seconds, then surrendered. "Oh, all right, if it'll make you happy, I guess it's only fair. Am I going to need to pull out the Black Card again?"

"I'm not sure." She hadn't looked at the price, and though she had plenty of money of her own, she didn't know how close she was to her less generous credit card's limit, at the moment. "Will it matter if you do?"

He made an extravagant show of thinking about it, as if he planned to say yes, of course it did, why should he pay for both their rings, but he couldn't maintain the sham for long. "No, it won't. I owe you so much, Roxanne, all the money I have would never be enough to repay you. You gave me the best reason in the universe to turn my life around. Anything you want, it's yours."

She sighed softly, feeling another of those knee-melting moments washing over her. She shook her head in wonder even as she favored him with a wry smile. "It's sweet of you to say that, but I don't think you owe me quite _that _much. How the heck did you manage to hide this side of you for almost thirty years?"

His answering smile was somehow both impish and shy. "With a lot of _very _hard work. Just ask Minion, he'll give you all the details you want. I guess I just wasn't cut out to be the bad guy, after all."

"That's just as well, there aren't enough genuinely nice guys in the world, anyway. If you really want to see the ring I like now, I'll show you."

But he shook his head, this time completely in earnest. "No, it's okay, I'll wait. I have to admit, you've gotten me a little intrigued, but in a good way. And it's not like I'll have to wait _that _long anyway, right?"

"Right." She kissed his cheek as the jeweler finally returned with his measuring implements; it was fairly obvious that he'd withdrawn for as long as he had to give the couple time to discuss the matter with greater privacy. "Thanks for being so understanding, Mykaal, I promise you won't regret it."

Megamind cocked one dubious eyebrow at her, partly for show, partly at her casual use of his name in front of a virtual stranger. Not that it mattered, he knew, since Andersen had already known it, having seen it on the hero's credit card and having had it literally spelled out to him to be used in the engravings inside the bands.

When the proper measurement had been taken — more than a simple use of standardized sizing rings, as Mr. Andersen insisted on a perfect custom fit; he'd expected that Roxanne's engagement ring would need some adjustment, as many "pop the question" surprise rings did, but Megamind's surreptitiously made calculations had been astonishingly precise — payment was made, and a date for pick-up was given. The couple then returned to the leather shop, to find the place much busier than they'd left it.

Apparently, word of Minion's presence had gotten around the neighborhood, and the interest in a talking, intelligent fish in a robot body was quite powerful. He was chatting with a group of curious youngsters when they returned, and they didn't have the heart to interrupt him. The ichthyoid had a soft spot for kids of any age, not surprising, since he'd been chosen even as a young fish to be the protector and ersatz nanny to the infant Mykaal. How they'd known he would display such qualities as he matured, neither Minion nor Megamind had a clue; the best they could suppose was that they were common traits of his species, and he had merely followed true to his inborn nature. Toby was standing nearby, keeping a protective watch over the garrulous fish, so they left Minion in his clearly capable hands.

Sunny had latched onto Roxanne as soon as she saw that they'd returned, bringing with her one of the friendly young ladies who had waited on the reporter during her visit to the bath shop, wanting her to see the engagement ring. The younger woman made the expected oohs and ahhs of delight (to which Megamind listened with both exasperation over the silliness of females on this subject, and smug pride to hear additional confirmation that he'd chosen well).

"So the two of you are really tying the knot?" the clerk said, near-giggling, and now causing the blue hero to start a bit at her choice of words. He'd heard the phrase before, but until that moment, it hadn't struck him that in their case, it might be looked upon as weirdly appropriate — or horrifically inappropriate, depending on whether or not you were willing to let bygones be bygones. "Is it going to be a big wedding? Those can take over a year to put together..."

But Roxanne shook her head, smiling pleasantly at the clerk's enthusiastic approval. "No, we want to keep it very small. We haven't settled on a date, yet, but it'll probably be soon, before fall. With our work schedules being so unpredictable, anything more elaborate would be nearly impossible." Which was true, if somewhat deliberately evasive as to just _how_ soon they had in mind, and where.

"That soon? Wow, I'd be a nervous wreck if the big day was coming in a month — but then, that can be so romantic, a whirlwind wedding, sweeping you off your feet...!" She was obviously one of the sort enamored of fairy tale type weddings, even if the tale was very brief.

One of the women hanging back from the edge of the group of youngsters surrounding Minion made a disgruntled noise. "It's disgraceful, if you ask me. They need to be more particular, letting decent women get involved with someone who isn't even human."

The sounds of other voices suddenly diminished as a number of people stopped talking to instead stare at the woman who had spoken. She looked to be about Roxanne's age, well-off from her style of dress and impeccable salon-type grooming, every strand of her light brown gold-frosted hair glued into place to create a too-artful 'casually tousled' look. Roxanne was about to make a crack about how this perfect stranger could make the presumption that she was decent, and both Toby and Sunny looked ready to literally kick her off the premises when Megamind spoke up, his tone deceptively neutral.

"Oh, then I suppose that my friend here isn't human, either." He wasn't indicating Minion, but rather Toby.

The woman frowned. "Of course he's human!" she said, trying not to sound flustered.

"How do you know?"

She was taken aback by the question for a moment. When Sunny was about to do something about the offensive woman, Roxanne stopped her, indicating that Megamind not only could take care of himself, but that he had to.

"Well, that's perfectly obvious!" the woman finally said.

Megamind remained unconvinced. "It is? Why? He doesn't look the same as you. He's much bigger, his nose and jaw are quite different, and his skin isn't the same color as yours. How do you know for sure that he's human?"

"I just do!" she snapped, and now, a red-haired man who was her match in his well-heeled appearance, very likely her husband, stepped up to support her.

"She's not a racist, if that's what you're implying," he said in tones that were as smooth as a politician's. "She's just saying that in the eyes of God, there's good reason to find a marriage between a human and... someone who's not human indecent, a cause for concern."

"Well, seeing that neither of you are God, how did you decide that I'm not human?"

The man made a condescending look "Well," he laughed, "that should be obvious..."

Megamind smiled back, a predatory edge to the expression. "Oh, but it isn't obvious. All you're seeing is the fact that my skin is blue and my head is bigger than what you call average. Can you examine my blood, my genes, my DNA with just your eyes?"

"I don't need to," was the haughty reply. "You weren't born on this planet, so you can't be human."

"Really." The reformed villain now adopted a casually confrontational stance, weight shifted to one leg, hands on hips. "How do you know that?"

His opponent was unimpressed, crossing his arms across his chest in a definite pose of defiance. "I just do! I don't need to be a genius to figure that out!"

Megamind's snort was carefully shy of rude. "Well, maybe not a _genius,_ but perhaps someone who opens the book to actually _read_ the contents before deciding what it's about. It's easier, of course, looking only at the cover before passing judgment, so I suppose it wouldn't interest you to know that a number of very highly qualified people _have _looked inside this particular cover—" He tapped his chest. "—studied the contents down to the smallest detail, and have determined that what's on my insides are as human as yours. Same genetic structure, same DNA, same cellular growth patterns, same internal organs, same general bodily functions. Racially, that's another story, I most definitely _am _of a different racial type than you, just like Toby here and some of the others I can see."

His sweepingly dramatic gestures indicated an elderly Oriental couple, a young black family, and a group of Hispanic children, but his green-eyed gaze never left the red-haired man. "You said something about 'in the eyes of God,' but I think perhaps you're presuming too much on His behalf. If _in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, _then I would take that to mean He created _everything._ Now, if that's so, then He created my world as well as yours — and if an all-powerful Creator had intended for us to be _completely_ different, wholly alien to one another, don't you think He would have _made _us that way? Not merely different in appearance and shape, but truly, definitively unalike, in the very nature of our beings? Why would He have made my people with all the same needs and requirements for and functions of what we both call life if He planned for us to be totally alien to each other when we finally met? Why don't I look like a talking insect who can't live under Earth's conditions instead of a short man with blue skin and a big bald head who can? Why would a God who has the power to create an entire universe _do _that if He didn't _intend_ for me to be — yes, _human?"_

In the silence that hung in the air following that final question — which left Megamind trembling ever so slightly from the force of the conviction that had driven his impromptu speech — Roxanne wanted to applaud. She knew that she couldn't, she knew she had to stay out of it — and in the end, she didn't need to lift a finger. The elderly Asian woman applauded for her, the steady beat of her hands picked up by others, beginning with her husband, to swiftly spread among the others.

When the contentious couple began to back away, wanting to escape the clear humiliation of being put down and outnumbered, the ex-villain held out one hand in a non-threatening gesture to stop them. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said more graciously than they deserved. "And I'm not trying to belittle your beliefs. But the universe is so much bigger than just one world, and I honestly believe that the power that created it all isn't so small and petty that the design was _ever_ meant to apply to only one single planet. If there is a God, He _has _to be bigger than that."

The woman who had started it all now looked troubled. "But the Bible..."

Megamind nodded. "Is a book that was written thousands of years ago, by people who didn't really have the proper words to explain things beyond the scope of their understanding." He glanced about himself and picked up a fist-sized decorative stone globe from a nearby table. "If I show this to you, how do you explain what it is?"

Both she and her husband blinked. "It's a rock," he said. "A brown rock with stripes."

The alien shook his head. "No, it's cryptocrystalline silicon dioxide, composed of trigonal silicon dioxide in a continuous framework of silicon-oxygen tetrahedra, in fine intergrowth with monoclinic moganite of the same chemical composition but with a different crystal structure, also combined with trace deposits of iron oxide, giving the brown coloration."

When the couple stared at him, totally at a loss, one corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile. "Or, more simply put, it's a piece of chalcedony, a type also known as agate — a rock. Six thousand years ago, 'a rock' is all anyone would have known to call it. Does understanding the details of its composition and structure change what it is? Is it wrong that people can now say more about it than 'it's a rock?' Does the ability to understand things like anatomy and genetics change the fact that a person is a person? Just because I was born somewhere else and have skin of a different color and a larger than typical brain and head, does it mean that I _must _be inhuman — any more than the racists who once thought that those with differently-colored skin and non-Caucasian facial features were less than human?"

A number of people in the shop watched the couple, very interested in hearing their answer. Roxanne was more than half-expecting the pair to react like the woman in the bath shop who had called Megamind an inhuman monster before storming out of the place. Now, she held her breath, waiting to see what happened next.

A very long minute passed while the two tried to digest all the ex-villain had just said; the way they fidgeted and the manner in which their eyes kept flicking about — especially toward the floor — spoke volumes about their discomfort. "I — I never looked at things that way," the woman was first to say. "It's... difficult, when you've been taught to think otherwise your whole life."

"But how were we supposed to think anything else?" the man said, more defensively but not exactly belligerently. "It's not like aliens come to Earth every day! Nobody ever had to think about or deal with something like this before."

"That's how I wound up almost ruining my life," Megamind said quietly. "Because no one ever thought about it, myself included. It's time we did, because it _is _a big universe, and there are more things in it than any of us have ever dreamt of. If you believe in a God, you can't keep Him confined to one world, one people, one way of thinking. Anyone capable of inventing or even imaging something as infinitely complex as life itself — or even just this rock — is too big to be limited and defined by _any_ of us."

Another handful of heartbeats passed before the woman nodded. She looked at Roxanne. "I'm sorry for what I said," she apologized, her eyes returning to the blue person standing before her. "It was very rude, and... wrong. I never thought of myself as prejudiced, but I guess I just learned something about myself that I don't like very much. Please accept my apologies, both of you. You've... given me a lot to think about."

The answering smile on the blue face was genuine. "I'm just glad that you're willing to think about it at all," he admitted. "I'm afraid I've met an awful lot of people who won't. Looking the way I do, coming from another planet... It tends to push people out of their comfort zones, in ways they don't like."

She managed a more timid smile in response. "I guess I can understand that. It's easier to want things to always stay the way they are. But they don't."

Her husband finally nodded, having needed more time before he was willing to relax his stubborn stance at all. "Sorry if I came on a little strong," he said, scratching the back of his head. "It's Sunday, and I guess we just had a booster shot of fire and brimstone this morning. The minister, he's not exactly comfortable with the way the world seems to be changing faster and faster every year. His ideas about slowing down, appreciating the old traditional ways sounded appealing."

"I'm sure they do," Megamind agreed with a lopsided grin. "Even the routine of being a supervillain was comfortable in a way — predictable," he added with a wink for Roxanne. "I always knew what to expect. But sometimes, change is for the better, even if it isn't easy."

"You said it, man," Toby agreed, nodding vigorously. "Bad habits are easy to fall back on. Moving forward is hard, very hard. But it's worth it."

There were murmured agreements from a number of those watching. The redhead hesitated a few moments more, then offered his hand to Megamind in a gesture of apology. When the alien accepted it, the man's eyes widened. "You're warm," he blurted out, coloring a bit at the weird looks people gave him. "I mean, I'd heard that you were cold-blooded or something, that's why your skin is blue."

Now, Roxanne found her opening. "Oh, no," she assured him. "Don't believe those things you read in gossip rags or hear on tabloid TV. They're all about ratings and sales, not the truth. Cold-blooded is definitely one thing Megamind is _not."_

Her fiancé flushed an unusual shade of purple right up to the tips of his ears, and though he groaned in embarrassment, the woman who had called him inhuman gasped softly. "I didn't know you could do that," she said, blushing herself from the odd looks she was given. "I don't remember who said it, but when I was little, I heard a story about how creatures without a soul or a conscience can't blush or cry. I don't know why, but it was supposed to be a way to tell monsters from humans. I guess somewhere deep down, I've always remembered that, and figured it would be a way to tell, a way to keep myself safe. It's silly, it's like the old tales about witches floating in water or vampires and garlic. I just... didn't expect this."

"There are so many old wive's tales and legends and myths, sometimes it can be hard to separate fact from fiction when we're faced with something completely new," Roxanne consoled the woman, actually relieved to hear that she held to such an odd belief. "But I think I can understand why some people still believe this one. I've done reports on serial killers, mass murderers, the kinds of sociopaths or hardened criminals who can commit truly monstrous acts and feel absolutely no remorse for it. A person with no conscience, no sense of shame or simple human decency probably _wouldn't_ blush, because they have no feelings of regret or compassion for those they hurt."

She smiled at her still faintly purple-cheeked beau. "That's part of how I always knew you never meant to hurt me or anyone, sweetie. You blush so easily, it's obvious you have all the feelings a normal, sane, decent person would have. And you've never been able to hide it."

That made the color in his cheeks intensify again, but it also brought a smile to his lips. "Well, I did try," he admitted sheepishly. "I just never could do anything about it — and believe me, I tried every trick in the book!"

That brought out a round of chuckles and good-natured laughter around the shop, and the tension finally broke. People started talking normally again, Minion and Megamind were both besieged by questions from the youngsters and several of the adults, and when Sunny and Charley not-so-subtly suggested that folks give their celebrated guests some breathing room, people cheerfully complied. When some of the throng had dispersed and the place was less crowded, Megamind disappeared among the leather coats and jackets and furs and racks thick with hanging clothes from floor to ceiling at one end of the shop. Seeing him go, Minion and Roxanne exchanged glances.

Both Sunny and Toby saw it. "Go ahead," she told them. "Toby'll see to it that you're not disturbed." When he nodded confirmation, they thanked him and headed after the hiding hero.

He was standing near the door to a storage room, leaning against the soft comfort of several long fur coats hanging on a wall display. His arms were wrapped around his slender torso, and he was visibly shaking. He looked up with a start when he heard their footfalls, green eyes wide, then visibly sagged, somewhat relieved when he identified them. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out but a thin sigh.

Minion spoke first. "Sir, I don't think I've ever felt more proud of you than I do right now," the piscine said, his voice quiet but filled with fond admiration. "I could never have answered them the way you did, not without losing my temper or giving in to them."

"He's right," Roxanne agreed, no less proud or fond of him and what he'd just managed to do. "I used to think that you were full of nothing but boasting and bragging and pointless banter and hot air, but somewhere during the last two years, you've figured out that the best way to get through to people isn't by browbeating them or yelling at them or putting them down, but just speaking from the heart, telling them what you think, what you believe, and why."

Megamind's laugh was shaky. "Yeah, I guess that's what I just did — but why does it feel like I've just been through another month-long battle with the Terror Trio? I'm shaking like... like an I don't know what!"

"That's normal, sir," Minion assured him, pulling the folds of the dark fur jacket his ward was leaning against over his slim shoulders. "It _was _a battle, just one with words, not weapons or superpowers. And this is shock, that's all."

Roxanne nodded, moving to stand closer to offer him a physical warmth Minion couldn't. "You really were magnificent out there, Mykaal. If you'd asked me to write you a script for everything you said and did, I don't think I could've done even half so well. Because when all's said and done, I _don't _know what it feels like to be in your position. People can insult me and call me a traitor against humankind and other crap like that, but it's just not the same as being the only one of your race on the whole planet."

She cupped the curve of his cheek and jaw with one hand, her eyes shining with pride. "You certainly are one of a kind, and if anyone ever dares to tell you you're not a real superhero, just have them talk to me. What you did just now took more strength and courage than a dozen Metro Men."

"What she said, sir," Minion added, settling one hand on his friend's shoulder. "Double."

The hero in question closed his eyes, reveling in the love of his two dearest friends, and managed a smile that was less tentative. "I'll do that," he promised. When he opened his eyes again, he glanced past them to where Toby was keeping anyone from disturbing them, then looked back to his guardian and his lady. "Could I have a few minutes alone?" he asked, trying very hard not to sound dismissive. "I just want to make sure I've gotten over the shakes before I go back out there, and it's not fair to the owners, keeping their customers out of half their store. I can duck into the store room, it's quiet in there, and if Toby still wants to stand guard, he can just stay outside the door."

Roxanne considered his request, and decided very quickly that he wasn't running away, just regrouping after an unexpectedly difficult and emotionally draining encounter. "Sure, sweetie, take as long as you need. Charley had some things he's been holding for me that I wanted to look over, anyway. And maybe Minion can find a few things here for his own wardrobe."

The ichthyoid grinned brightly. "Oh, that's a great idea, Ms Roxanne! I've always thought that leather jackets were _very _cool, but they never worked well with a gorilla robot body. Do you mind, sir? I know that leather's your signature look, and I don't want you to think I'm just copying..."

Megamind gave his old friend a playful push. "You're the one who gave me the look, Minion, so why would I complain? Go on, see if they have anything that comes up to your high standards."

As his sidekick happily ambled off, Roxanne lingered long enough to give her beau a brief but warm hug and kiss. "You know, I understand why you're reacting like this, and why you didn't want to say anything to Minion."

When the green eyes narrowed slightly but one brow lifted, puzzled, she explained. "You weren't just giving those people a piece of your mind; you were begging, to be understood, to be accepted as just another one of God's children. You shouldn't have to do that in a perfect world, but sad to say, this world is far from perfect. And Minion, he's your protector, but he can't protect you from that — and if he found out that he didn't catch the subtext of what was really happening, he'd feel bad about that, too."

Megamind began to insist that she was mistaken, but he knew it for the lie it was. "I didn't realize it myself until it was over and my knees started to give out. Don't tell Minion, please. I don't want to upset him over something like this. I haven't given him many good reasons to feel proud of me, over the years."

Something soft and warm crept into the reporter's blue eyes. "If he knew what you've just said, he'd have another good reason to be proud — like I do. You're turning into one very exceptional superhero, Mykaal, even without all your clever gizmos and gadgets. Sometimes, the hardest battles to be won aren't against supervillains or weapons of mass destruction, but in obscure places against small minds that worm their ways into people's hearts and minds and crush them. Wayne could lift entire buildings in one hand and give inspiring speeches about justice, but he could never have won a fight like this one, not in a million years. I won't tell Minion, I promise."

He sighed, relieved. "Thank you. I'm glad you understand, but I guess when it comes to this sort of prejudice, I want to be the one protecting him, for a change."

She chuckled lightly. "Of course you do, that's why you're the hero, not the sidekick." For good measure, she rewarded said hero with a kiss. "Are you sure you'll be all right now?"

He nodded, savoring the sweetness of his reward. "I'm better already, I just need a few more minutes to make sure my knees have stopped knocking. I won't be long."

"You'd better not be," she teased, "or we might just need that special credit card of yours and another SUV to carry everything home." When he chuckled and blew her a raspberry, she knew he'd be fine and left him to finish collecting his rattled nerves on his own.

True to his word, it took only a few minutes before Megamind returned to join them, much more his usual enthusiastic and happy self. He laughed at some of the more outrageous things they modeled for him, declaring that the panache needed to carry off truly flamboyant clothing was a gift neither of them apparently possessed.

He was, however, willing to allow that Minion's current habitat seemed excellently suited to some classic biker styles that he simply couldn't imagine on Wayne without it looking absurd. And he had to scrape his jaw off the floor in order to let Roxanne know that he highly approved of one of the leather and suede outfits she'd put together, though he wasn't sure how well his self-restraint would hold up under the heat. Sunny and Toby and even Charley put in their opinions as well, and offered a few changes and other suggestions that were well received, so by the end of their visit, they had enough purchases to more than make up for any business that might've been lost during the tense confrontation.

It was almost suppertime before they were done, so for dinner, they headed back to Sister Bay and took Minion to the little cafe they'd visited on their first night in town, and several times since. The staff was delighted to meet him, especially the students from overseas who would be heading off to their respective colleges the following week. Minion was thrilled to find that Marco was pursuing studies in oceanography and ichthyology. It was his expert opinion that people on Earth needed to learn more about the oceans that covered so much of the world and the life within them, not just as resources but as the treasure troves of an untapped greater knowledge of the universe that they could be. "And," he added puckishly, "I'll never know if there's a fish in that ocean for me if no one ever looks close enough to find her!"

They ended the first day of Minion's vacation back at the summer house, all three watching another beautiful sunset over the wide waters from the vantage of a terrace on the hillside above the private pier, talking of trivial things, enjoying the company of one another. Even though they all shared a feeling that the days until the wedding were rushing by, for a little while, time slowed to a crawl as the colors of the sunset lingered in the skies and only slowly faded to the first deep blues of the coming night. And when the stars finally began to open in blossoms of silver light above them, Roxanne and Megamind looked at one another, spoke without words, and reached a decision.

* * *

"Saturday," they told Judge Crenshaw when they met him for lunch in Egg Harbor the following day. The restaurant that had been chosen was a peculiarly colorful little place, bedecked with some of the oddest yet most fanciful arts and crafts made available by local artisans, turning the place into a quaint little combination café/art studio. But the food was good, the atmosphere pleasant, and their corner on the screened-in porch sufficiently private for their needs.

The judge had already informed them that the clerk would have their finalized license ready late on Wednesday. They in turn informed him of the place and day they wished to hold the ceremony — which would give Minion and his brainbot helpers plenty of time to implement his plans without over-rushing him — and they also admitted to their trepidations concerning the actual time to have it. Crenshaw had been reliably honest with them.

"I could call in a few favors to get the park closed to the public for an hour or so at a decent time of day." He said this with a wink and a smile, indicating his personal feelings about getting up before the crack of dawn, which even the younger couple admitted was a charming idea, but not really practical. "But let's be frank about it: what are you trying to hide? I can understand you not wanting to advertise the wedding beforehand and draw a gaggle of media and celebrity watchers and crackpots, but you're not planning to keep the marriage itself a secret, right?"

"Not at all!" Megamind said first, appalled by the very idea. "I mean, I suppose that might make Roxanne a little less of a target for bigots, but she's already had to deal with that, and my enemies. Keeping it secret might seem like a good idea, but to be honest, I think of being open about it as making a very clear statement that I _will _protect her, and that I have every _right _to protect her!" He spoke with such ferocity, one could fairly see the steam coming from his nostrils.

Roxanne squeezed his hand to cool him off. "That's a little stronger than I might've put it, but it's the same general idea. I don't want to hide the fact that we've chosen one another, forever. But I also don't want the ceremony spoiled by curiosity seekers and paparazzi. Not to mention a certain stalker who's currently stuck in southern Illinois, waiting for his car to be fixed."

Crenshaw nodded. "Legitimate concerns, I grant you. But so long as you don't talk too publicly about the when and where, there shouldn't be any problems. I can ask my friends with the county park service and the Sevastopol police to make sure you have clear access to the area you want for as long as you need. You're not planning anything big or long, so at worst, it'll only inconvenience the park visitors for a little while. But is there something wrong with letting simple, ordinary people who happen to be in the right place at the right time be there to see a very important moment in your lives?"

The couple exchanged glances and shrugs and quirked eyebrows as they considered this. "I guess not," Megamind admitted readily enough. "Especially if there'll be a few police around, just in case one of the innocent bystanders turns out to be some anti-alien lunatic or religious nutcase."

"Just so," the judge said, approving of his attitude. "I don't want this to be about the moral and political statement aspects, but we can't deny that they're a part of it, they would be no matter what. Being open and allowing others to see that you're not afraid of what they might think sends a good message of its own: we love each other, we take pride in each other, and we have nothing to hide. So pick whatever time you _really_ want, not just a time where you can do this in secret. It's been my experience that marriages wind up the way they begin, either in openness and honesty or in secrets and lies."

It was a very wise observation, and the couple took it to heart. By the time their lunch was finished and they parted ways with the judge, the matter was settled. That coming Saturday at three in the afternoon on the promontory at Cave Point, weather permitting (and a quick consultation with several Internet weather services said it should be), they would be married. With any luck, they would have a week or three afterward in which to relax from the rush of preparations, enjoy the rest of their vacation with Minion, and celebrate the beginning of this newest phase of their lives together.

And hopefully, they would also have a chance to get their strength and their wits into top shape before returning to Metro City and the media barrage that was certain to come once the news was out that their city's defender and its top reporter had tied a knot of an entirely different kind than the ones they used to share.

* * *

It was Thursday afternoon before the repair shop in Grayville was finally able to get all the necessary parts to repair the broken transmission of Stewart Mitchell's traitorous Mercedes. He was on I-64, heading as fast as he could for St. Louis, determined to reach it before the big two-day rally there was over and the bikers headed out on Friday morning, when he received a most disconcerting phone call from Leo Zaleski.

"They're _where?" _he demanded, not wanting to believe his ears.

The hacker was perfectly calm about the whole thing. "Door County, Wisconsin. Popped up in someone's blog on LiveJournal, heard from a friend of a friend of a friend kind of thing. The two of 'em and the fish were drawing a crowd in a place called Fish Creek — and this wasn't one of those celebrity lookalike gimmicks, the fish was spotted in the robot body he's been using since his usual gorilla suit got trashed in a big fight last month."

"It could still be a trick," Mitchell growled, annoyed by the mere idea that he might have been fed a tissue of lies as a diversion, and had fallen for it. "They've got those disguise things they use, you know."

Zaleski was unperturbed. "Yeah, I know, but there was a tiny detail to this that might interest you: seems that your would-be lady's got a sparkly not-so-little rock on her finger that the blog's source says came from the little blue guy you love to hate."

_**"WHAT?"**_

The volume of Mitchell's bellow came perilously close to blowing the audio receptors on his two stealthbot companions, as well the eardrums of every person in every vehicle within a mile-wide radius.

Zaleski, who had had the foresight to pull the headset away from his ears before he finished dropping that little bomb, still heard it quite loud and clear, though not so painfully. He waited until the echoes of the scream and his own laughter died away before answering.

"Hey, I didn't write the blog, I'm just repeating it. _This past Sunday at a certain corner store in Fish Creek, Wisconsin, one Roxanne Ritchi and her alien 'friends' were seen shopping, chatting up their fans, and showing off a sweet two-carat diamond ring a certain blue superhero gave her when he popped the question during their recent vacation in the Door. Rumor says that wedding bells will be ringing for the celebrity couple before the beginning of fall. Will the Metro City __bridal industry be ready for what's sure to be the city's Wedding of the Century? _ That's how the blog reads. Now, you can take the rumors any way you want, but you've got as much to go on here about them being in Wisconsin as you do about them being on that cycle tour."

Mitchell's blood pressure had taken several upward spikes during his cohort's commentary, heaping horror upon horror. When his constricted throat finally loosened enough to let him speak again, he had to force out the words between clenched teeth. "I can't believe she'd be foolish enough to actually let things get that far! Is there _anything _you have to verify this, or do you think it's just another plant?"

He could hear the hacker shrug. "Well, it's a fangirl type of blog, so it could be nothing but a lot of wishful thinking, or even someone they got to plant the rumor because she liked doing a favor for her heroes. There's no photo or video to go with it, and I haven't seen any mention of an engagement in any society pages — and you _know _this is just the kind of thing they'd be salivating over if there was even any vague proof. I tried hacking into the banking and credit card systems to see if I could find any records for recent jewelry purchases by either Ritchi or Megamind, but I came up with zip, over the last year. Either he does everything with cash, or if he has a card, it's under some other name. So if it's solid proof you're looking for, I can't give it to you."

The producer didn't find that news reassuring. "Still, it could be real," he grumbled. "It's just the sort of thing that underhanded, unethical blue criminal would try, using poor Roxanne's Stockholm Syndrome against her."

Zaleski snorted. "You know, the shrinks say she's clean, that way," he pointed out, mostly for the fun of being an irritant.

Mitchell didn't disappoint. "Yes, I know, but I don't believe them! It's like schizos, they can be so totally into their sickness, no one can diagnose them properly. You're a gambling man, Leo. If you had to place a bet on where they are, where would you put your money?"

The hacker didn't take long to think about it. "In Wisconsin. After they left Milwaukee, the only live footage we've seen of either of them came from the boat rescue in Ephraim. Still pictures are easy to fake, videos not so much. I'm not saying it couldn't be done, but I'd consider that the more credible information."

The self-centered sleazoid gave this due consideration even as Snooper started relaying this conversation to Daddy and Minion on a top-priority signal. "I have a sinking feeling you may be right. All right, Leo, get to work finding out where they're staying up there. Unless they change their plans and head back home early, they'll still be up there another ten days. That's plenty of time for me to drive up there, track down Roxanne, and talk to her before she makes the biggest mistake of her life."

Leo replied with a cooperative, "Will do," and left Mitchell to consult his car's GPS as to the best route he might take to cover the more than 500 miles between his current location and the thumb of Wisconsin.

Unbeknown to him, in the back of his car, an invisible brainbot, having finished its relay of this villainous conversation to its maker, was having its own little silent conversation with its invisible partner perched on the Mercedes' roof. Sneaker and Snooper had specific jobs to fulfill, but they were not entirely without minds of their own. So in total silence, determined to be of the most help they could be, they discussed which part of Mitchell's car they could subtly sabotage next, to delay his mad dash north and prevent him from harassing Daddy and their soon-to-be Mommy until it was too late.

* * *

Meanwhile, up in Sister Bay, Minion had called his boss and Ms Roxanne to listen to Snooper's relay of Mitchell's discussion with his hacker. When it was over, all three were quiet for a moment, exchanging glances. "So, what are we going to do?" Minion finally asked.

Megamind's and Roxanne's eyes locked for the better part of a minute, their communication silent, but as informative as the data pulses between the two stealthbots. She nodded first, and he agreed. "Nothing," the blue hero said, his voice as serious and more deadly than it had ever been before. "Sneaker and Snooper only need to delay him for another day or so. After that..." His smile and the glint in his green eyes was positively evil, in a splendidly good way. "After that, if he can find us, let him. We'll be ready — and we'll give him the surprise of his life."

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XXII: The Last Party  
_


	22. The Last Party

_Author's Note: Happy Easter, Passover, or simply Good Day! No, this is not the wedding chapter. As so often happens, my Muse had other ideas. What started as a few paragraphs about an impromptu "bachelor party" got out of hand, but in a good way. So here I give you what will __definitely__ be the final chapter before the wedding itself — a little surprise "Easter egg" of a different kind. Enjoy! (And please forgive me if there are more than the usual number of typos; this came out in one big blurt, and though it's been quickly proofed, I wanted to post it today, so additional corrections will have to come later. Not my usual style, but well, it's an unusual occasion!) As always, a very big thank you and hugs to all my fantastic readers and reviewers!  
_

_Oh and one other thing: I've had a number of people recently ask if they could use the name I invented for Megamind in their own fanfic. My answer to all of them and any others who might be curious is yes, of course, just so long as you acknowledge the source. We're all playing in the same sandbox that Dreamworks created, and it's nice to share all our "toys," but it's also polite to give credit to where the toys came from, as we do for the folks who built the sandbox._

* * *

XXII

The Last Party

On Friday night, Wayne — who had devoted as much time as was needed during the week, running errands for Minion and taking care of little things to lower the stress levels on his friends — showed up before supper time, armed with pizza, snacks, a variety of beverages, and anything else that could be wanted for a very small "bachelor & bachelorette party," as he jokingly called it.

"I know how tough things have been, these last few months," he told them when they had gathered in the house's big rec room after Minion and his cadre of brainbots had finished all but some minor finishing touches on the wedding clothes. "I know this sort of thing is supposed to be... well, kinda sleazy, but I didn't think that was quite your style, either of you."

From the way Roxanne laughed and Megamind's ears turned purply-pink, he was right on target. "I hope you didn't hire strippers or bring dirty movies, Wayne," the reporter warned. "I don't want you traumatizing either the groom or his Best Man and send them heading for the hills before the wedding!"

The musician grinned. "I considered it, but I couldn't find anything that I thought would appeal to everyone. But one of the guys in my band is good at making videos, so we got together early this week and put this together." He slipped a DVD into the player connected to the big high-def TV, and when they'd all settled down with their plates full of food and cups filled with whatever drinks they'd selected, he hit a button on the remote to start the player. After a few moments of a blank dark screen, the image of a cloud-flecked morning sky came up, followed by the very professional looking title: _Kidnapped: the Unusual Courtship of Roxanne Ritchi and Megamind._

For the next two hours, there followed a video montage of clips from nearly every one of the conflicts between Megamind and Metro Man which had involved the abduction of Roxanne and had somehow found its way onto a recording, from professional news footage to what was clearly fairly low resolution recordings made with the video mode of a cell phone camera. The clips that had been chosen were largely amusing, especially in hindsight, some downright hilarious, but all somehow managed to make it quite plain that for all that the perils appeared to be real, Roxanne's life had never been truly threatened, the danger to her always kept to the barest minimum possible. The memories stirred by the clips and the way they were presented had all four of them in stitches, except toward the end, where the mood shifted from humorous to touching.

What those clips showed were the times that a camera had caught Megamind rescuing his own victim, or deliberately sabotaging his own schemes when things went wrong and Roxanne's safety was threatened. Although she had seen some of this footage before, much of it was new to her, or had been glimpsed quickly after the fact and forgotten. She wasn't sure where or how Wayne had found all this footage, but as she watched it now, her hand slipped into the nearer of her fiancé's, her fingers sliding between the long blue ones to gain more direct contact. She felt his fingers tighten, and knew that he shared what she was feeling.

As the clips moved beyond Megamind's villainous past into his life as the city's new protector, the video clips were more familiar, and generally very professional. They ended with a scene from late in March, six months ago, of the ball following Metro City's annual celebrity talent competition for charity where the couple had been filmed dancing as if they were the only two people in the world. Roxanne tried very hard to minimize her sniffling as the video concluded on a frozen image of them that slowly dissolved to a shot of the same sky with which it had begun, only now a sunset deepening to a star-flecked night.

Megamind offered her a clean napkin to use as a tissue, and when she looked up to thank him before using it, she saw that his lavender-tinged blue cheeks were as damp as her own. Smiling, she dabbed away his tears before using the napkin to clear her nose with a ladylike honk. They both knew what had so moved them: the fact that the final scene had taken place only a matter of days before the beginning of all the terrible stresses in their work lives that had nearly torn them apart and destroyed their relationship.

"That was beautiful, Mr. Wayne," Minion said, breaking the emotion-laden stillness. "Where did you find all of those recordings? I've never seen some of that before."

"Neither have I," Roxanne seconded. "I recognize the legitimate news clips and even a lot of the bits from the gossip programs and YouTube, but other things...! Where did you get them?"

"From the brainbots," Megamind said, not exactly frowning at his former rival, but giving him such an arch look, it was obvious that he was beginning to doubt the musician's promise not to pry into his personal business.

Wayne admitted it with a sheepish nod. "The one you call Blinkie seems to have taken a shine to me since we made him a part of our little conspiracy to distract Stewart Mitchell. When I was in your place a few nights ago, picking up some things Minion asked me to bring him, the bots in the Lair wanted to play fetch pretty badly, so I stuck around for a little while to make 'em happy. While I was there, I got a call from my friend who was putting together the video I wanted for tonight — didn't know I carried a cell phone, huh?" he added with a grin when all three of his companions regarded him with surprise. "It doesn't matter how old or invulnerable you are, mothers always like to keep tabs on their little boys. Anyway, Keith wondered if I had any other recordings he could use, because he was running short on the kind of thing that would be suitable, and he didn't like the way it was turning out, seemed either too dark or too sappy."

He paused to take a deep breath. "Well, Blinkie was hanging around nearby, and I guess he could pick up both of us talking, and when he heard what Keith was asking for, he started butting me to get my attention, and then started showing me recordings, projected them onto the side of a big storage cabinet for me. It was just the sort of stuff Keith wanted, and I asked Blinkie if this was supposed to be secret, 'cause if it was, I knew you'd get mad if he gave me copies of the recordings so Keith could use them. He kept insisting it was okay, bowging up a storm and nodding that big eye of his until I thought he'd shake it loose. I thought about asking you first to make sure that he wasn't just trying to butter me up, but I really wanted this to be a surprise for tonight. I apologize if I screwed up, but I swear I didn't go through your files or ask any of the bots for it. Blinkie volunteered it, and I made a decision without asking you first, Megs. I'm sorry if it was the wrong one."

When the ex-villain's expression didn't change, Wayne feared that he'd made a terrible mistake again, even though he'd meant well. But as his own face began to fall, one corner of his old nemesis's mouth quirked up into a small smile. "Well, I suppose I can't blame you for making use of things one of my own brainbots gave you," Megamind said with an air of exaggerated long-suffering. "I'll have to see about reprogramming Blinkie when we get home, though, or cannibalizing him for parts..."

"Oh, sir, you can't do that!" Minion spluttered in the absent bot's defense. "He's really the best camera bot we have — I was thinking we could bring him to use tomorrow...!"

Roxanne chuckled. "Relax, Minion, he's kidding," she said, sure of it. Her blue eyes shifted toward Wayne in a sidelong glance, her fingers drumming against the arm of the loveseat on which she and Megamind had been ensconced as the "guests of honor." She took a sip from her wineglass before clicking her tongue at the squirming retired hero. "You know you really should've asked _someone _first, Wayne," she chided. "Like Minion."

The chastened lug nodded. "I know, and I did think of it, but when I brought him the stuff I'd gone to the Lair to pick up, he was pretty frazzled, worrying about getting all the things he was making done in time. I didn't want to dump anything more on his plate, and I have to admit, I didn't feel right about just going ahead without asking _someone_ — so I asked Pinky."

All three of his listeners' eyes went wide as they said in chorus, _"Pinky?"_

While Roxanne found herself to be completely blindsided by that confession, Megamind laughed uproariously while Minion grinned his most toothy, crooked grin. "If you even mentioned Ms Roxanne's name when you asked, Pinky would've agreed to anything," the fish informed the musician.

Wayne blinked. "Really? I knew she had a thing for Roxie, but I thought that was just like me and Blinkie, sort of a friendly little puppy bit. Aren't the brainbots all programmed to be completely loyal to you two guys first?"

"They're programmed that way to start, yes," Megamind confirmed as he slowly got the better of his mirth. "But they don't necessarily _stay _that way. They're called brainbots for a reason, Wayne. They're mostly cybernetic, but all their higher intelligence functions are processed through and controlled by a partially organic brain. It was something I came up with when I was still pretty much a kid, after one of my earliest long-terms escapes."

"But why?" the retired hero wondered, genuinely curious.

The blue genius shrugged. "The lair Minion and first tried to set up had a bad problem with rats and pigeons, so I tried to build a robotic sentinel to take care of the vermin. I kept running into the wall of it not being intelligent enough to act without direct commands outside of extremely limited parameters. Then one day, a truck hit a stray dog literally outside our front door. I tried to save the poor thing, but it was just too badly hurt. I didn't want it to have died so senselessly, so stupidly, so I tried to find a way to bring it back. In the end, the best I could manage was to salvage some of its brain cells before they began to decay; I was able to clone them, and nurture them in a way that I was eventually able to meld with a cybernetic processor to act as the director of higher-functioning intelligence. It's actually a very small part of every one of their brains, now, a cellular component that allows for more self-directed initiative and individual personality. All of the cellular material is cloned from the first."

"So they really are all part dog?" Wayne said, impressed. "That explains a lot about the way they act! Playful, curious, loyal..."

"...churlish, snappish, single-minded, easily distracted, fickle..." Megamind added with an amused snort. "Oh, for the most part, they're very true to their training, their programming, but sometimes, things don't go quite right — I'd swear it's a problem of too much inbreeding, if they were actually being bred. And they can display a remarkable amount of personality and initiative, especially in non-critical areas, like these attachments they develop to specific objects or places or people. I don't believe that they would ever actually turn on me in preference to someone else — that part of the training program is very exacting — but develop a fondness for someone else? Oh, yes, they'll obviously do that. Pinky's liked Roxanne since the first time she saw her — some strange female bonding thing, I suppose — but she was careful to not be overt about it until after it was clear that I had accepted Roxanne as a member of the 'pack.'"

The reporter fairly giggled, remembering. "And I was worried that she'd be some kind of pervert and take pictures of me bathing."

Wayne was still impressed. "So you're the alpha male around the Lair, huh, Megs?"

The smaller alien responded with an airy gesture. "Well, I _did _create them, didn't I?"

Now, Wayne started. "You mean they think of you as God?"

Both Roxanne and Minion laughed. "No, they think of him as Daddy," the sidekick corrected.

"Which is a little more true than I once thought," the reporter added. She gave her fiancé a peculiar look. "You haven't literally tried that, have you? Splicing in your own genes or some other weird Frankenstein-type crossbreeding?"

Megamind ran one finger along a seam of the loveseat's upholstery in an ever-so-nonchalant gesture. "Would I do something like that?" he asked, wide green eyes perfectly innocent.

She snorted, and a suspicious burbling sound came from Minion's direction. "You might," the reporter speculated.

"He tried," the piscine said bluntly. "Not cloning his own brain to use in the brainbots or shooting for a literal crossbreed, but trying to use bits and pieces of his own DNA to use as a kind of an evolutionary accelerator. It... didn't exactly work."

"'Didn't exactly work'?" Roxanne echoed, making a valiant attempt to hide her alarm. But the fact that Megamind wasn't ordering Minion to be quiet made her think that this wasn't as awful a thing as it seemed.

Minion was also peculiarly unperturbed. "You've seen the results, Ms Roxanne."

She blinked. "I have?"

Megamind's sigh was huge, an almost-groan of surrender. "Of course. There's more than one reason we call him The Brain. I told you he was an attempt to develop a brainbot with a higher level of independent reasoning. All it wound up doing was giving him an extraordinarily high level of singleminded thinking, with a tendency toward even greater territoriality."

Roxanne considered all this for a moment before a laugh spluttered from her lips. "I guess that makes sense. You can give new meanings to the words _singleminded _and _defensive._ I suppose it could've been worse, he could've wound up sappy and socially awkward instead."

"Yes, which is why I never tried again. It was a bad idea, and _not _bad in a good bad way."

Wayne had listened to their discussion with interest, and now chuckled. "Just as well," he opined. "The people who are still having a hard time warming up to you would have a field day with it if they knew you'd tried that kind of gene splicing. Trying to save a poor stray dog and sort of giving him immortality in the brainbots seems a lot more noble, except maybe to the types that think of any kind of cloning as evil. For myself, I think what you've done with the brainbots is pretty amazing, but you're probably better off if you just let people keep on thinking the name has to do with the way they look, not the fact that they actually have brain cells in 'em. The animal rights extremists would probably start accusing you of raiding animal shelters or running a hidden puppy mill to provide the raw materials."

Now, the ex-villain made a sour face. "I know, I know, I once mentioned the concept in passing to someone at the Museum, and they nearly had kittens of their own. I would never do anything like you just suggested, but some people just can't let go of the notion that there's an inhuman monster of the most despicable kind hiding inside me, waiting to come out again when everyone's been lulled into a sense of false security. I have no intention of ever making this public — although I _have_ talked about it with some legitimate scientists and doctors who are interested in my cloning techniques as a means of repairing brain damage in humans, everything from simple trauma to stroke damage and things like Parkinson's Disease."

Even Roxanne was surprised to hear that. "Really?"

Megamind nodded. "Potentially, it could be very useful, but the initial research has to be kept quiet or some people will protest it as being human experimentation, even though it isn't at all. For one thing, the technique is really nothing more than a means of taking healthy tissue from a person with some form of brain damage and altering the cells during cloning solely for the purpose of making accelerated regeneration possible in the severely diseased or damaged areas of the same patient's brain. And I would _never_ try anything like this on a living creature unless I knew for certain that it would work, or there was no hope for the patient to live unless something this drastic was attempted."

"I believe you," Wayne said with a nod, both motion and voice full of supportive conviction. "And I didn't mean for things to get so heavy, this is supposed to be a party, after all. I just hope I didn't ruin things between us because I listened to Blinkie without confirming it was okay with you."

Megamind feigned a huffy, offended demeanor for a moment, then smiled crookedly and shook his head. "No, it's all right, Blinkie did volunteer the recordings. I know that bot, and I know you wouldn't lie about it. Besides, having seen the results, I'd have a hard time being upset even if you did deliberately go snooping. Your friend is a very talented video composer."

"Hear, hear," Roxanne agreed, lifting her wine glass in a salute to the absent editor. "And I always thought Keith Sullivan was just a mediocre drummer."

"He's getting better," Wayne defended mildly as he refilled his own glass with the crisp white wine and offered more to the others. "I know he's not the greatest drummer in the world, even in Metro City, but he's tops with some of the other percussion, and that's really what I wanted. With my style of music, he doesn't need the fancy riffs and solos, just a good solid beat."

"You should have him work on video promotions for your group instead, Mr. Wayne," was Minion's suggestion. He wasn't much for drinking anything with alcohol — more than a few sips could make him positively giddy or half-asleep — but he enjoyed sparkling waters that he sipped through a specialized straw clipped to the edge of the tank's access hatch, which was opened so he could eat. The bubbles, he claimed, tickled his insides in a very pleasing way, and some of the flavors mixed in added to his enjoyment. "He really does seem to have a gift for it. There were a few transitions he made with these clips that had me laughing so hard, I thought I'd pop my neural interface! And some of the others were just so beautiful...!" He burbled in happy sentimentality.

"Did he make other copies?" Roxanne wondered as Wayne popped the DVD and returned the sound system to playing music.

The brawny musician shook his head. "No, I thought that'd be crass, and I made sure he returned all the materials I gave him. He's honest, so you don't have to worry about any of this showing up on the Internet or getting sold on the streets."

"Good," Megamind said as he plucked the disc from Wayne's hand as he passed by on his way to put it back from where he'd gotten it. "Because we're keeping this."

Wayne grinned. "Fair enough, I had him do this just for you two, anyway. Consider it sort of an early wedding present."

Minion made a sudden, horrified, strangled sound. "A wedding present!" he exclaimed, reflexively smacking his "head" and almost knocking his whole body out of the robot suit. "I completely forgot about getting you a wedding present! Agh, how can I be such a complete idiot? Oh, sir, Ms Roxanne, I'm so sorry...!"

Both bride- and groom-to-be regarded the distraught ichthyoid with fond smiles. "Minion, calm down!" his ward suggested. "It's all right, you don't have to get us a wedding present."

Minion wasn't letting himself off the hook. "But, sir, you're my best friend, and Ms Roxanne...!"

This time, she stepped in. "Minion, you've _already _given us a wedding present, don't you know that?" When the frantic fish stared at her with a truly bewildered expression, she couldn't stop herself from smiling a little more widely. "Just think about it. You've been spending the entire week, planning, sewing, fitting, cooking, doing so many things to make our wedding beautiful, the two of us haven't needed to lift a finger. Heck, we've been lazing around so much, it'll be a miracle if the clothes still fit tomorrow, 'cause we've both probably put on a dozen pounds or so!"

Megamind agreed wholeheartedly. "And even if you hadn't done any of that, you've still given us the best gift of all: you're going to be there tomorrow, as our friend, and a witness. All things considered, we should be giving _you _a present, not the other way around."

Roxanne punched his arm lightly. "Are you saying you didn't get him a groomsman's gift? Your own best friend?"

He stuck out his tongue. "And did you get Wayne a bridesmaid's gift? I hear that necklaces are very traditional..."

"Oh, I couldn't," the retired Metro Man declared, flapping one hand. "I'm more of a bracelet kind of guy, and chains hurt like the dickens on this hairy chest of mine!"

The crack made everyone laugh, and the whole nonsense of who owed whom a gift was forgotten. But that brought another matter to mind, at least for Roxanne. "I seriously hope you're not planning to show up in a dress tomorrow," she threatened her erstwhile rescuer, her grim tone and lowered brows promising dire consequences if he said yes, or even refused to answer directly,

"I swear, I am _not _going to wear a dress," he said most solemnly. "I'm also not a cross-dressing kind of guy, and I couldn't find anything I liked, anyway," he added with a broad wink.

That brought on a new round of laughter, since the whole idea was perfectly ludicrous. As the echoes of their humor began to fade, Pinky came floating into the room, bowging cheerfully as she approached Minion. The fish looked up at the pink brainbot, all thoughts about gifts and things owed forgotten. "Is everything finished?" he asked, and was answered with a string of happy bowgs and a little floating happy dance. "That's great, I'll be out soon to do a final check."

Obedient to the implied instructions — for though Pinky was definitely attached to Roxanne as her "person," the bot was plainly delighted to have been asked to help with the construction of the special clothing for Ms Roxanne and Daddy's wedding and would not risk being sent away for bad behavior — Pinky bowged her acknowledgment and headed back out to the boathouse.

"The three of them were doing all the final finishing and pressing of the wedding clothes," Minion explained as she floated off. "I asked her to let me know when they were done so I could check to be sure there's nothing that was missed. I was planning to power down after that, since I want to be up early tomorrow. I never thought that such a happy occasion could be so stressful!"

"Well, it'll be over by this time tomorrow," Megamind pointed out as his oldest friend got up and started to collect the leftover food and dirty dishes. "And you'll have at least another week after that to recover. We're not expected back until Labor Day at the earliest."

Wayne shooed Minion away from the clean-up, insisting on handling the job himself since he'd been the one to bring the party. Roxanne sighed as she finished her wine. "Actually, I've been thinking of calling Jack Kincaid and asking if there'd be a problem if I took an extra couple of weeks. When we started this vacation, we weren't planning on fitting a wedding into the plans, and Minion's been working so hard, he really deserves more than a week to enjoy himself."

Her fiancé looked torn, liking the idea, but nagged by his hero's feelings of responsibility. "I'm not sure if _I _should be gone that long," he said, not liking it but also accepting it as a part of his job. "The mayor and the police and emergency services were only expecting me to be gone for a month."

"Don't worry about that," Wayne said even as Roxanne and Minion were both about to offer some opinion, either for or against the idea of extending their time away from the city and their duties there. "I know all of these people, and they know me. If I tell them you want the time and deserve it, and that I'll be doing what I can to fill in for you until you get back — even without obviously using any of my powers, I think I'd be stupid to spill those beans before I give you that interview, Roxie — they'll go for it. If anything big comes up, I'll contact you, Megs, and let you call the shots about handling it. I don't want to undermine their respect for you as their protector, but for crying out loud, even a superhero should be able to get _some _extra time off for his honeymoon!"

Roxanne chuckled, walking her fingers up one of her beau's arms then snaking them behind his head to rub the back of his long neck. "That's true, and so do star reporters. If I tell Jack that's why I want the extra time, he'll be tickled pink, especially if I promise him nobody will get anything from us about the wedding until we get back and I give the scoop to KMCP."

Minion grimaced. "Oooh, I didn't think of that, either. I can't stay here while you're on your honeymoon! I'd feel like a whole truckload of spare wheels!"

"Ah, don't worry about that," Wayne said before the couple could as he carried the dirty dishes to a small dishwasher behind the rec room's bar and service area. "I had some ideas about coming up to join you for a few days, show you around the whole area while these two have their own private celebration. I've got a couple of little details to get finished, but I'll have it all squared away by tomorrow. Don't fret, Minion, you won't feel like a third wheel, and they won't have to feel... inhibited."

The bride-to-be made an amused spluttering noise while her groom-to-be made a much more extravagant show of exasperation, rolling his eyes and his entire head while his shoulders sagged as if all the air had left his body like a popped balloon. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Wayne, grow up!" he commanded. "It's not like we're a couple of teenagers, or some _rundy _rabbits in mating season!"

Now, Roxanne giggled. "It's randy, hon, and I suppose it's really not such a bad idea. I've had friends who lived together for ten years and were anything but celibate when they got married, and they still enjoyed a few days alone for a honeymoon. It's not only a nice tradition, but they said it was a very enjoyable way of easing into their new relationship. Because it _is _new, even if it just seems like a legal formality. You know we talked about this when we discussed the ceremony."

Megamind made an odd face while he reflected on what she'd said, chewing on his lower lip while he tugged at the tip of his chin with one hand. "Hmmm. Well. Yes. Yes, I guess that isn't such a bad idea. And I also suppose the police and emergency services shouldn't have trouble dealing with the ordinary things that come up for a week or two longer, especially with most of the brainbots still there to help them, and you, Wayne." He suddenly looked very anxious. "I guess I'm a little worried that they'll decide they can do without _me, _if I'm gone too long."

All of his companions understood his concern, but it was his former enemy who spoke first. "That won't happen, Megs, I can guarantee it. Not just because villains who are too tough for them to handle will probably keep popping up from time to time, but because you can give them things a lot more important than protection from criminals and rescues in emergencies."

The blue brow furrowed as the green eyes narrowed. "What things?"

"Take this stuff you were just saying about how what you did to develop the brainbots is leading to research that will eventually be able to help people with serious damage or diseases of the brain. And the stuff you came up with last year to help clean up the area literally by making ways of totally recycling and breaking down all the city's garbage into useful materials. Do you think they want you to go away and stop giving them _that _kind of help? No way! And you've got so many other ideas and inventions in the works for making a lot more than Metro City and the whole region a better place, you can bet whatever you like that the city and the county and the state will give you anything you want to keep you there as a huge feather in their cap. A few extra weeks of vacation? Pfft, they might whine, but they'd never be stupid enough to risk having you move away because they ticked you off by complaining about a couple of weeks of time that isn't even costing them a penny."

For the better part of a minute, the bemused genius sat there, his lips pursed in a small, startled, unvoiced, "Oh!" Then he blinked, shaking off his momentary stupor. "I never considered that angle. I'm going to have to revise my estimate of your intelligence, Wayne. You're not a complete muscle-brain, after all."

The musician laughed. "I'm not anywhere near your league, Megs, but thanks, that means a lot to me, coming from you. In this case, though, I just have a lot more public relations experience, especially dealing with city and state officials. They might complain a little, but all you need to do is imply that you're thinking of relocating and they'll change their tune so quick it'll make your ears pop."

Roxanne shook her head, running one hand through her hair. "So the whole rivalry between the two of you wasn't a publicity stunt, but the city took advantage of it like it was all for their benefit."

"Pretty much, yeah. My own dad would give me reports about how much the chamber of commerce liked some battle of ours because it increased interest in the area and its businesses, or when the tourism bureau thought we were going overboard and scaring off visitors." He snorted. "He more than half-expected me to _do_ something about it, like rewrite the scripts. He never quite got that this wasn't just a stunt."

Now, Megamind deliberately put both booted feet on the coffee table, smacking down his heels on the top as hard as he could, as if willfully kicking the deceased Lord Scott by kicking his furniture. "I know things aren't the same anymore, but hearing things like that really doesn't do much to lift my spirits. It makes me feel more than ever that nobody _ever_ took me seriously until I accidentally helped to make a villain a lot worse than I'd been."

Wayne finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. "Sorry, Megs, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. My dad wasn't much of a dad, when you get right down to it. He didn't have much respect for me, either, unless he could find a way to profit from what I was doing. Did I ever tell you that after I faked my death, he didn't want to go to the memorial service my mom arranged because he had a board meeting he thought was more important — and that he wasn't even _on _the company board, anymore? Mom had to blackmail him into going, and that was before I had a chance to tell them both that I was still alive."

"Nice guy," Roxanne said sarcastically. "I'm surprised he was able to come up with a place this beautiful." She waved one hand, indicating the house and grounds around them.

"Oh, he didn't," was the casual reply. "My father had about as much imagination as a bowl of week-old mayonnaise. The design for this place came from one of the local architects. Dad always had delusions of being a great sailor, and the architect has a flair adapting nautical styles and themes to modern houses. He just pointed to pictures in the guy's portfolio, told him which ones he liked and which ones he hated, and set a budget. He didn't even pick out the furniture or the upholstery, just chose a few colors."

Megamind took his feet off the table, feeling a little embarrassed by his rather childish display of displeasure. "It sounds like neither of us got dealt the best hand in life," he admitted. "Landing in a prison sucked, and I still wish I'd landed somewhere just a little bit more normal, but it doesn't sound like you dodged any bullets, either, winding up where you did. Your bullets were just gold-plated."

"Exactly. Still, this place at least doesn't have any bad memories connected with it. Whenever we came up, the folks did their own things and let me do whatever I wanted, and here, I didn't have to be anybody's little hero, all day, every day. It's why I thought you'd like it. It's a nice area, with nice people who help each other instead of expecting someone else to do things for them."

"We've noticed that," Roxanne said, turning to Minion. "That's why we want you to have a real chance to really enjoy yourself while you're here. It's a great place to relax, and you deserve a good rest, too."

The ichthyoid grinned toothily. "It's considerate of you to think of me, especially with everything else going on — and I'm looking forward to it. For now, though, I'd better go out to check on things before those three bots think I've abandoned them."

He closed his tank, stood up, and started to head for the door, then paused. "Oh, by the way, sir, I forgot to mention that Sneaker and Snooper reported in, just before Mr. Wayne showed up. Mr. Mitchell's going to be spending the night in Rockford."

All of the others were surprised. "Rockford, Illinois?" Roxanne queried. "I thought he was only a couple of hundred miles away from there when he decided to head north yesterday afternoon."

Minion snickered. "He was, but Sneaker and Snooper have been...complicating things for him, on the sly. First Snooper started siphoning his tank, then waited until he was in a rural area about twenty miles from the nearest gas station before draining it completely and stranding him for over three hours. Then he gave him a flat tire, and while Mitchell was changing it, Sneaker sent a jolt through his electrical system and fried every bulb in the car. He got stopped three times for equipment violations — no brake lights, failure to signal turns and lane changes, that sort of thing — before he could get off the expressway to look for a service station to replace all the bulbs. He wound up spending last night in Bloomington because he couldn't drive without headlights after dark, and he got there after the repair shops were closed. He doesn't have a clue about how to change the bulbs himself."

"But it's not a day's drive between Bloomington and Rockford, only a couple of hours at worst," Megamind pointed out. "Why is he stuck there for the night?"

His guardian's grin was wicked. "Because Sneaker blew his air conditioning system and jammed the heat and fan controls on high when Mitchell stopped to use a restroom. It was closing in on a hundred there today, and he couldn't stand all the heat blasting at him even with the windows open. He found a repair shop in Rockford, but they had to keep the car overnight because they needed a part from Chicago to finish the job. It's being expressed in first thing tomorrow, so they'll be able to do the rest of the work in the morning. He'll be back on the road around noon, most likely."

Roxanne breathed a big sigh of relief. "Then he can't possibly make it here in time to ruin the ceremony, even if he knew exactly where to go."

"Not unless he finds a way to make his car literally fly," Megamind agreed. He turned back to Minion. "Does he know anything about the wedding being tomorrow?"

The fish shook his head. "So far, the only thing that's leaked to the media is that one LiveJournal blog post about the two of you getting engaged. From the discussion it generated, it looks like the general consensus is that people want to see proof, like a picture of the ring or substantiation from more witnesses or one of you before they'll believe it's true. That might turn up, since I'm sure I saw people with cameras using them at the leather shop, but since I'll bet most of them were vacationers, they probably won't bother posting anything to the Internet until they get home. I heard some of the kids complaining that public Internet access can be pretty spotty around here, and not all the lodgings provide good service."

"That's true," Wayne confirmed as he came back to collect the last of the leftovers from the table. "And it's kinda deliberate. Not that it's impossible to get onto the net, but one of the reasons people like this area is because it's so detached from the regular working world, they can leave it all behind and just relax and enjoy themselves. It helps force some workaholic types to let go and reconnect with the world instead of turning their vacations into work away from the office."

"So if Mitchell doesn't know that the wedding is tomorrow, he won't have any reason to try driving like the _prevorbial _bat out of hell, trying to get here in time," Megamind concluded. "That's good, it's one less thing to worry about. And once the ceremony's over, I don't care if he shows his ugly face. He'll just have to give up any perverted fantasies he has about winning Roxanne, and if he won't, I'll be more than happy to show him the error of his ways." He scowled, fuming, one fist pounding the overstuffed arm of the loveseat. "It's sick, the way he can think of such a wonderful, intelligent woman as a prize to be won, or some mindless cow he can just pick out and force into... gah, even _thinking _of that makes my blood boil!"

Roxanne leaned across the couch to kiss the tip of the ear that was the easiest part of him to reach, given how he was twisted about, facing Minion. "Then _don't_ think it, sweetie. Jerks like him are a dime a dozen, and I'm sure that if he shows up and tries to make trouble for us, Judge Crenshaw will be more than happy to slap him with a restraining order so hard and fast, he'll wind up in Timbuktu with his head still spinning before he knows what hit him."

Wayne chuckled as he closed the small refrigerator. "Yeah, it's always good to have the law on your side, and a friend or two in high places."

That thought went a long way toward cooling the ex-villain's outrage, though he wasn't about to give up any of his plans to defend his lady love, both in honor and physically. "I suppose that's true — but I still _dare _him to try _anything!_ I'll teach him meanings of the word 'regret' his puny, feeble, pea-sized brain never imagined!"

Roxanne patted his knee. "Go ahead and be creative, but just remember, you're a hero now." From the sound of his snort, Megamind would've preferred to forget that little technicality when it came to Mitchell, but she knew he wouldn't. For the most part.

Minion tactfully changed the subject. "I'll have Pinky and Little Nipper bring over your dress and things after I've had a chance to make sure everything's finished and in order," he told Roxanne. "Mr. Wayne, are you going to be staying here tonight? I'm sure Pinky would be happy to get one of the guest rooms ready for you..."

But the musician shook his head. "No, I have to go back and finish up those details I mentioned earlier. But I'll be back in plenty of time for the wedding, don't worry. I know it's traditional for the bride and groom to arrive separately, so Roxie, I hope you don't mind, but as your Maid of Honor, I arranged to have a limo come to pick you up and drive you to the park. If you don't want to ride alone, I'll be here to join you, but if you don't mind, I'd rather meet you there."

In unison, the other three quirked one eyebrow at him. "You _are _planning a surprise, aren't you?" Roxanne asked, her tone brooking no evasion.

He flashed her his best thousand-watt winning smile. "Of course, but I promised, it won't be a dress or anything embarrassing or tacky. I may not be the Defender of Metro City these days, but Wayne Scott, musician, still has a reputation to consider!"

That was true, and so she dismissed any worry over his plans. "I'll be okay going alone," she told him. "Besides, I promised Pinky she could be my flower girl, so she can ride over with me. I hope that doesn't freak out the chauffeur!"

"Given some of the things I've seen in bridal magazines, it could be a _lot _worse," Minion said to reassure her, eliciting a triumphant, "Ha!" from his ward.

"I _knew _you've been secretly reading those things!" Megamind gloated. _"And _watching all those ridiculous wedding shows on cable!"

It was quite likely the first time in his life Minion had ever blushed like a human, given that he was a fish with a different circulatory system and other ways of showing emotions in bodily reactions. He smiled sheepishly. "Okay, sir, you got me, I'm busted. But it was all for a good cause, the best! Will you be coming out to the boathouse soon? It's getting late."

Roxanne gave her beau a puzzled look while he told Minion, "Soon. Just let me know when you've sent Roxanne's things in so I won't accidentally jinx all your hard work."

"That's probably my cue to be heading off, too," Wayne announced. "Unless something comes up and you need me sooner, I'll see all of you at the park tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

After appropriate agreements and goodbyes, he was gone, and Minion went out to take care of his own details in the boathouse apartment. Roxanne's brow was still furrowed. "You're not planning to spend the night with me?" she asked Megamind when they were alone, this being the first she'd heard of such plans.

He shook his head, apologetically. "Minion and Wayne both said something about it being another tradition, and I sort of understand why, even though we've been living together and sleeping together for months. It's symbolic, I guess, a way of making what's going to happen tomorrow have just a little more meaning. It's one thing when we sleep apart because we're mad at each other or one of us is working late. Doing it when we're not..."

He took her hands in his own, caressing their backs with his thumbs, the one holding her left hand flicking against her ring. "It's a choice to be apart for one night before we choose to be together in other ways, forever. If I miss having you there tonight, it'll make me look forward even more to having you beside me for the rest of my life, and beyond."

Hearing the sincerity in his voice and seeing it in his eyes, Roxanne suddenly found herself needing to sniff back the moisture collecting in her own eyes. "Oh, Mykaal, that's so sweet — I never thought of it that way! All the girls I've known who spent the night before their wedding apart from the fiancé they'd already been living with did it because they wanted their family and girlfriends to be around on the morning of the wedding to help them get ready. You just gave that a whole new, better meaning."

His small smile was cocky. "I'm good, aren't I?"

Playfully, she slapped his hands away, then leaned forward to give him a long and very loving kiss, which he eagerly returned. "Yes, you're very good," she allowed with a pleased sigh when their lips reluctantly parted. "And you're getting better every day, in a lot of different ways. Okay, I won't mind spending the night apart. Just tell Minion I'm keeping Pinky here with me, unless he needs her again. I'd feel better, not being completely alone in a big place like this, and she can help me get ready for the wedding. She's really getting to be a pretty good little helper, that way."

"I'm sure he's expecting that." In fact, at that very moment, they heard the cheerful bowging of the pink brainbot as she came floating down from the upper level, where she and Little Nipper had just finished delivering the wedding dress and accessories. Megamind sighed. "I guess that's _my_ cue to be going. Until tomorrow?"

"Until tomorrow," she agreed, offering and accepting one last, lingering kiss. "Sweet dreams," she called after him as he reluctantly headed for the door to the outside.

Hand on the latch, he paused and looked back with the impish but earnest smile that Roxanne knew had melted the innermost parts of her heart toward him long, long ago. "Ever since you came into my life? I never have anything but," he assured her, then blew her a kiss, and was gone.

Until tomorrow...

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XXIII: The Day of Reckoning_


	23. The Day of Reckoning

_Author's Note: A full day earlier than planned, I give you... a long chapter. A very long chapter. But it is, ultimately, the chapter toward which the entire story has been leading all along, as some gentle readers have suspected. And being such a pivotal event, I didn't feel it would be right to give it short shrift in the telling. I had debated a long time as to how I should handle it, whether or not to attempt a true author omniscient point of view, or to alternately tell one side, then the other. In the end, I decided to stick with a single third-person limited POV, Megamind's, and to deal with Roxanne's in retrospect as the opportunities may present themselves in the chapters still to come. Because although this is the Big Moment of the tale, the plot isn't over yet! Also, if you haven't read my other stories, some parts might seem a bit confusing, but hopefully not enough to be distracting.  
_

_And so, in honor of the royal wedding about to take place in England, I present another "royal wedding" of sorts. My thanks as always to my wonderful readers and reviewers, without whom I would have lost the will to continue long ago. Bless you all, and enjoy!_

* * *

XXIII

The Day of Reckoning

"Good morning, sir! Are you ready for your breakfast?"

Minion's almost insanely cheerful voice crept into Megamind's consciousness, interrupting a vague but pleasant dream that didn't seem to mind the not-quite-gentle intrusion. He felt the warmth of sunlight on the lower part of his body, though it had been blocked from hitting him in the face, for which he was grateful. He hated waking up to extremely bright light, and sun in the face was almost as bad as a guard or a doctor with a high-powered LED flashlight, trying to get a look under your eyelids without bothering to open them. A moment later, his mind roused a bit more, and he wondered why he was bothering to think about such trivialities when the exquisite aromas of coffee, crisp wood-smoked bacon, scrambled eggs, buttermilk pancakes, and a sweet mixture of fresh berries were seducing his nose. Ah, this was one of those times when he blessed his genes for giving him such sensitive olfactory nerves.

"Thank you, Minion, and good morning," he said stretching like a cat as he blinked open his eyes and saw his friend standing beside the comfortable bed where he'd bunked down for the night. It was convenient, he reflected idly, that being a small fish inside a robot body, Minion had no need to lie down at night while his suit recharged and he slept in his perpetually cleaned tank. "That smells wonderful! I hope you haven't been up too long."

The piscine chuckled as he waited for his ward to sit up so that he could set down the tray to serve him in bed. It wasn't a regular thing, but on special occasions, he liked indulging his friend, and this was quite possibly the most special day of his life thus far. "I suppose it depends on what you consider too long," he said as he set the tray across his boss's lap and expertly flapped a linen napkin to unfold it before tucking it into the open throat of his friend's black pajamas. "If you mean did I get enough sleep, yes, I did, and I slept very well, thank you. The air here is so fresh and the lake water so clean, it makes for a very relaxing environment. But if you mean what time is it now compared to when I woke up, then I guess you could say it's been pretty long. I was up around seven, and it's about a quarter to eleven."

Megamind almost knocked the tray off his lap as he sat up straighter in shock. "And you let me sleep this late? Is Roxanne upset? Aren't there a million things I still need to do?"

Minion laughed softly. "Let's see, one thing at a time. I let you sleep this late because there wasn't any reason for you to get up sooner and I have a feeling you're going to need your rest. Ms Roxanne isn't upset because she's still asleep; Pinky said she had a little trouble getting to sleep, just like you did."

The ex-villain smiled softly as he settled down and picked up his fork, inhaling deeply to enjoy the delicious aromas of his breakfast. "Was she nervous, too?"

"According to Pinky, yes. She talked to her for almost an hour, about a lot of things Pinky didn't really understand. Not upset or worried, just excited." He sat down at a table not far from the bed, picking up the shirt he would wear later in the day to tighten the stitching on a few of the pearl buttons.

"I know how that feels," Megamind admitted as he started in on his breakfast. "How late are you going to let her sleep? She said yesterday that she wanted to be ready to leave for the park by two."

"Pinky's going to bring her breakfast at eleven; that should be more than enough time. I've already contacted everyone else to make sure things are running on schedule. Judge Crenshaw and his wife will be at the park shortly after two with the police who are going to help make sure we have clear access to the areas you asked for; they'll also do any security work that might be needed. The florist will have everything I ordered either delivered here or set up at the park on time. You and I will be there between fifteen minutes to half an hour before the ceremony."

"Isn't that cutting things a bit close?" the blue hero worried.

But Minion was unconcerned. "Not at all! Having too much time on your hands to stand around and wait would be worse. Mr. Wayne says everything's going like clockwork on his end, too, all his little details have been tied up. He said he's going to be spending most of the morning running some last minute errands, but he's already dropped off Blinkie and a couple of the other camera bots. They're out in the garage, getting in a last-minute booster charge; we'll take them with us in the SUV. Mr. Wayne also said all the arrangements for dinner this evening have been made, so you just need to let the chauffeur take you and Ms Roxanne there after the ceremony; he and I will go in the SUV. The driver called to confirm all the times and places, everything's been picked up from the jewelers and I know exactly where it is, and when I finish with this, all the clothing will be ready to go. I'm pretty sure I didn't miss anything, but you never know."

While he ate, Megamind let his brain take Minion's implied question and run with it. Sometimes, it was better to let his mind do the processing entirely on its own, allowing the instincts of his race's developmentally advanced and highly capable brain to do what consciously, he might have bogged down in distractions and unnecessary minutiae. He wished that he was better at letting himself do this, since too often, he short-circuited his own instincts by trying to control the process, but he was getting better — no doubt because he was finally entering the truly adult stage of his life, the part in which (at least according to a recording left him by his mother) he would finally be able to best use all the remarkable gifts with which he had been born. Much as the thought of having been a juvenile for more than thirty-five years embarrassed him, the growing feelings of self-confidence that came with his improving command and control of those gifts were worth any trivial discomforts. For a moment, the exquisite taste of the berry compote on the pancakes nearly derailed even his instinctive thought processes, but after a slight hitch, they were firmly back on track, and delivered their results a moment later.

"Have the stealthbots reported on what Mitchell's up to? I don't care if he shows up later today, but I swear, I'd break his neck with my bare hands if he ruins the wedding." He uttered the threat so darkly, there was no question that he meant exactly what he said.

Minion, however, chuckled. "That won't happen, sir. For one thing, yesterday, Judge Crenshaw asked me to email photos of Mitchell to him and the police who'll be at the park. They'll be keeping their eyes open for him, and if he does come there, he'll be detained before he can try anything. But it's very unlikely. I got a report from Sneaker and Snooper just before I brought your breakfast. The repair shop hasn't gotten the part they need to finish work on his car yet; the delivery truck was held up by an accident on the expressway — and no, the bots didn't cause it. The service promised they'd get the delivery to the shop by noon. Snooper went out to track down the truck, and he's been following it; at the rate the driver's going it'll make it to the shop just before noon, unless he hits more snags."

His boss snorted. "Anywhere near Chicago, that's entirely possible."

"True. The owner of the repair shop promised Mitchell that he'd get the work on his car finished ASAP, even if he has to keep the mechanics on past their usual Saturday closing time. The job should take about an hour to finish, so barring any problems, he should be back on the road around one or little after. With another delivery holdup, who knows? If he leaves by one, to make it here in two hours, he'd have to drive the entire way doing over 130 miles an hour — and even if he could manage that and not get stopped by the police, his car couldn't take it, not for hours. At the rate of a typical speeder, he can't get here until after five at the earliest. He won't be showing his face at your wedding, even with an engraved invitation."

The blue hero hadn't minded his sidekick's lengthy reports, as they gave him time to savor more of his breakfast. "And there isn't any way he could change his mind and catch a plane to fly up?"

Minion snorted as he snipped the thread, finishing the last button. "Not unless he can afford to charter a private jet, and that'd probably take just as long as driving, given the short notice. I thought of that, too, so I checked, and while there are commercial flights that go between Milwaukee and Green Bay every day, a lot of them go from Milwaukee to Chicago and then to Green Bay, and take three or four hours of sitting on the ground at O'Hare or Midway, waiting to make the connection. The few direct flights to Green Bay have either already left, or won't leave until after eight tonight. _And _he'd need to get to Milwaukee or Chicago first, which would add another hour or more to the time. Plus once he got to Green Bay, he'd have to rent a car, and then find out where you are and drive there. Going to Madison would be quicker, but there aren't many flights between there and Green Bay, and most of them take nearly ten hours because of the stops and the hub city nonsense. Flying's not an option, and if he thinks to look into it, he'll know it. Even _he_ isn't that stupid."

Megamind accepted that quite equably. "I didn't think it was feasible, either, I was just speculating. The image of him sitting around some airport, getting shuffled aside by the TSA for special screening because he's taking a last minute trip without any real luggage is strangely appealing. But..." he sighed and shrugged, now finished with his meal. "Just knowing he can't possibly get here in time to spoil the ceremony is enough, especially since he doesn't even know there's going to _be _a ceremony today. So, what kind of schedule do you have for us following breakfast, Mr. Wedding Planner?"

He said it with such good-natured teasing, Minion couldn't take offense. He grinned. "Well, since you've caught on to that, I hope that means you'll cooperate, sir."

Megamind grinned in return, leaning back against the pillows, arms crossed behind his head as his guardian removed the breakfast tray. "I wouldn't dream of ruining all your hard work, or spoiling your fun. Admit it, you _are _enjoying all of this, aren't you?"

Minion laughed. "Enormously. What's next is cleaning up. There's a shower here, but it's not as nice as the ones in the house, so I had the brainbots set things up for you in the guest suite on the lowest level. They moved all your things for the wedding there last night. With you and Ms Roxanne on different floors of the same house, it'll be easier for me and the bots to help both of you, instead of running back and forth between here and there."

His boss shook his head, chuckling as he sat up again and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "You're really not willing to take any chances with this jinx thing, are you?"

"Oh, I don't really believe in that," the fish said dismissively as he handed the tray to Splice, to be returned to the kitchen in the house. "It's just a romantic custom, the surprise and anticipation for the bride and groom. I liked that, and so did Ms Roxanne. Does it really bother you, sir?"

"No, not at all," Megamind admitted as he stood up, stretched his long blue limbs, arched his back, and then shuffled over to the satchel he'd had Pinky bring over during one of her errand runs the night before. "You're the only family I have, Minion. I'm... touched by how much you wanted to make this day as perfect as it can be. And don't say you were only doing your job," he warned when the fish began to say just that, waggling one finger in his friend's direction. "You were appointed as my protector, and you could've done _that_ job and nothing more. You didn't have to be my surrogate parent."

Now, Minion flittered his fins in his version of a shrug. "I suppose I didn't, but we were all the other had. I don't remember things quite as well as you do, but I remember that the minute I saw you when your mother put me in the pod, I felt an attachment to you. You were so little, so cute, so... special, I knew right away that I'd do anything to take care of you and make you happy. Maybe that overstepped the bounds of what I was _supposed_ to do as a minion, but I couldn't help it — and I've never really regretted it."

"Neither have I." He reached into the satchel, rummaged around for a moment, then withdrew something wrapped in a blue cloth. "I wasn't exactly telling the truth last night when I implied that I hadn't thought of a gift for you," he explained, returning to stand before his old friend. "I've been trying to find the right occasion to give you this, and when you threw yourself into making today so special when you didn't have to, I knew there wouldn't be a better time. I asked Wayne to find it and bring it with him before he came up last night."

He pulled away the cloth, revealing a black metal box with a silver latch, several inches thick and somewhat larger than both his spread hands. Minion's breath hitched as he stared at it. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't have! Now I feel even worse about—"

"Don't you dare say you didn't get us a wedding present," Megamind warned with a mock growl. "Neither of us was joking when we said you already have. This isn't exactly the kind of gift Roxanne was talking about, anyway, it doesn't have anything to do with being a memento of the occasion. Like I said, I was planning to give this to you eventually, and I just thought that now was a good time." He held out the box, indicating that Minion should take it and open it.

Hesitantly, the ichthyoid did so, setting it down on the table before raising the lid. Inside, he saw a brand new duplicate of the hero's de-gun, styled in gleaming sapphire blue with silver detail work, slightly sleeker in form than the original, but just as elegant and functional. When he looked up at his boss, perplexed, Megamind smiled.

"You've been my protector for over thirty-five years, Minion," the blue genius explained. "Since even by the reckoning of our planet I'm not a child anymore, I think it's time that you stop thinking of yourself as my guardian and start thinking of yourself as my partner. That's what we are, after all, aren't we? Partners?"

Momentarily at a loss for words, the sidekick took the elegant weapon from its case, and only then noticed the engraving that at first glance looked to be no more than artful silver embellishments on the dark blue grip.

_For Minion, a fantastic fish, a fabulous partner in heroism, and the best best friend ever. -M_

If he hadn't already been totally immersed in water, Minion's eyes would've been flooding with tears. "Oh, sir!" he whispered, unable to manage any greater volume. "You really mean all this, don't you? About being your partner, not just your sidekick?"

"You always have been," his still smiling ward admitted. "I came up with ideas, you helped to implement them. I got into trouble, you saved me. I needed help, you were there to give it. I wanted attention, you let me have it, even when you deserved it just as much or more than I did. You've been as much a protective brother to me as just a friend. I suppose other people will keep thinking of you as my sidekick because I'm the more..." He suddenly found himself having a tough time coming up with the right word.

"Flamboyant?" Minion suggested, snuffling back his tears, well aware that Megamind had been thinking "egocentric" but was reluctant to actually say it.

And Megamind knew that he knew it. "Thank you, that's a nicer way of saying 'narcissistic boor.' But I suppose it's appropriate, we always have had different ways of doing things, and you seem to really have enjoyed working behind the scenes. I've just been thinking that if you're going to share the dangers with me the way you did while we were trying to stop the Terror Trio, you should have a proper sidearm of your own, not just my beat up old spare, so I started working on this a couple of months ago. It could come in handy, someday."

The piscine smiled. "Just not today."

The reformed villain shrugged. "Well, you could if you wanted. I gave it the same invisibility mode I came up with for mine this past spring. No one would know if you wanted to take it."

But Minion shook his little body emphatically. "I don't think it would feel right at a wedding — and Ms Roxanne might go ballistic if she found out," he added, returning the weapon to its case and closing it. "She might start wondering if _you _were carrying a weapon, and that could just get ugly. No, I think I'm better off leaving it here, somewhere safe. But thank you, sir, this means a lot to me, especially today. It's sort of like we're all starting new relationships with each other, not pulling apart and going different ways."

Megamind's smile was now brilliant. "Exactly! We'll always be friends and family to one another, but from what I've seen, even those sorts of relationships change as people grow older — and hopefully, a little wiser." He clearly was referring to himself.

Minion set down the case and drew his friend into a hug. "You've definitely done that, sir, and I'm very proud of you for it — as both your guardian and your friend. From now on, we can have each other's back, and look out for Ms Roxanne, too. Though I have a feeling she won't need too much of that!"

"Not if she has anything to say about it," Megamind confirmed, returning the hug. "Thank you, Minion, for everything. Now that we're pretty much in agreement about being partners and friends instead of a substitute parent and child, maybe that data recorder my parents sent with me will pop up some new information about _you._ I've always wanted to know for sure if you had a name of your own, not just _min'yaaun."_

"I'm curious, too — but it can wait until after we go home," the fish added, bustling about to put the case somewhere safe and collect up his clothes for the wedding when the blue hero's cell phone rang with the distinctive ringtone for Roxanne.

Megamind literally dove for it, fumbling with the jeans he'd left draped over a chair the night before and snatching the phone from the pocket. "Ollo, Roxanne!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Morning, handsome," her equally cheery voice replied, with just enough early in the day throatiness to make her sound delightfully sultry. It sent a delicious shiver up her intended's spine and turned his insides to a glowing little puddle of happy mush. "Did you have those sweet dreams we talked about?"

"Oh, yes," he sighed sappily, "beautiful dreams, of course — they were all about you! But Minion said Pinky told him you had some trouble getting to sleep?"

He could hear her smile. "Nothing to worry about, sweetie, it was just excitement. I didn't think I could feel like a blushing girl after everything we've been through all these years, but I guess I was wrong. I'm looking forward to this even more than I thought, and it just hit me how much when I was alone with Pinky last night. I'll bet you slept like a rock, huh?"

He chuckled, glad that she couldn't see the lavender flushing his ears. "More like a rolling stone at first," he confessed. "Same reasons as you — though not the blushing girl part. And I did miss having you here with me."

"So did I. I was a little shocked that Minion let us sleep so late, but he's a wise fish — and you can tell him I said that. This leaves me enough time to get ready without rushing, but not so much that I'll start getting jittery or impatient."

"I suspect that was the plan all along. I'm going to be coming up to the house soon, but I'll be staying on the lower level until it's time for me to go. Is Minion confining you to the master suite?"

Roxanne giggled. "I don't know if it's exactly _confining,_ but Pinky's making it pretty clear that I'm not supposed to go wandering around the house. That may just be her, though, she wants to do absolutely everything she can for me this morning — to the point that I practically had to wrestle her down to let me go to the bathroom on my own. She's been very sweet and apologetic since she realized that she just _couldn't _do _that _for me! Y'know, I think she's going to be a darling little 'flower girl,' even if it's just a wee bit unconventional. Better than a girl I knew who dressed up her Shih-tzu as a miniature bride and had it tote a flower basket down the aisle in a church. The poor thing was so wired, it left other little 'gifts' along the way." He could hear her shudder as she said it, and the image of what she'd described caused him to grimace in distaste.

"It sounds like Minion was right when he said there are stranger things people do at their weddings. Even Wayne in a dress would be an improvement. Say, _did _you get him a bridesmaid's gift, after all?"

Roxanne's laugh was bright. "As a matter of fact, yes, I had Max Andersen engrave a pocket watch for him: _For Wayne, the hairiest and brawniest Maid of Honor a girl ever had. Thanks for skipping that last 'rescue.' _ Do you think he'll like it?"

"If he knows how to tell time," Megamind wisecracked. "No, I'm sure he'll love it. Is it silver or gold?"

"For our wedding? Silver, of course."

"Good, then I'll like it, too. Ah, Minion's trying to tell me it's time I headed to the house to wash up," he said when his old friend gave him a stern look and tapped his own wrist meaningfully. "Is there a reason you called, anything you needed from me? The moon? The stars?"

Now, he could hear the fondness in her smile. "Nah, you're going to be giving me that in a few hours, when you say 'I do.' I just wanted to hear your voice before I got down to business, and to remind you that I love you."

She was so expertly causing his insides to melt, he suspected he'd have a hard time making it up to the house, what with jello taking the place of his bones. "I love you, too. Call if you need anything from me, okay?"

"Will do. See you soon, hero."

When he'd said goodbye and clicked off the phone, the blue alien simply sat for a few moments, basking in a different but very pleasant kind of afterglow. "You know, Minion," he finally sighed expansively, "for the first time in my life, I feel one hundred percent certain that I've made the right decision. Roxanne and I belong together, and what anyone else thinks really _doesn't _matter!"

"That's right, sir," the ichthyoid agreed, gently taking one of his friend's elbows to urge him to his feet. "It never did, and it never will. But we do have a schedule to keep, so c'mon, throw some clothes on and let's get moving!"

* * *

Under Minion's expert direction, everything proceeded like clockwork. Even the brainbots behaved themselves perfectly, having all been given a very stern lecture that morning concerning the consequences of any misbehavior and failure to obey instructions. Given how very many brainbots Daddy owned and how few had been allowed to come to this very special occasion — a grand total of ten, perhaps a dozen if Sneaker and Snooper made it by the end of the day — they were able to understand that they were indeed privileged, and wanted to prove themselves worthy of the honor.

The biggest brainbot related problem came when Little Nipper, trying to be a good assistant to Pinky, dropped Roxanne's makeup case while carrying it to the dressing table and made a total mess of the contents on the bathroom floor. However, the reporter was able to calm down the irritated Pinky and soothe the chagrined Little Nipper, and cleaning up the minor problem caused only about ten minutes' delay. And Minion had planned things with enough flex time to allow for such glitches, so in the end, things remained running right on time.

Minion had also been correct when he'd told Roxanne that he had a good idea of the styles his boss tended to prefer, and that he'd like what his designing henchfish had already begun for him. The general design for the groom's outfit was very similar to the one Minion had constructed for him earlier that year, when they presented their entry in the charity celebrity talent competition, a duet for piano and violin. The changes he'd made were primarily in color and fabric, exchanging the black worsted woolens and winter-weight fabrics for lighter linens and summer-weight silks, and switching his friend's customary black and royal blue for crisp, clean white.

Megamind had raised an eyebrow at that, but he hadn't actually complained, especially not since Roxanne had mentioned how good she thought he looked in white on the day they'd arrived in Sister Bay. The slacks and short dress boots were the same as those he'd made back in March, but for their color. However, Minion had altered the cut of the flowing jacket so that it was slightly broader at the shoulders and more fitted at the waist, the change better complementing the more typical flare of the tall neck and head framing collar, which had been narrowed and truncated in the earlier outfit to accommodate the needs of his violin performance. The single button of the jacket was in silver, the vest of a lustrous white silk ground with a pale blue geometric figure and mother-of-pearl buttons, the shirt of fine white matte finished silk, tieless, with a small and simple silver and sapphire pin as the throat closure for its short standing collar.

Other than the touches of silver and blue, there was nothing in the clothing that screamed "Megamind." Even the tall jacket collar was not in his usual batwing shape and cut, but was patterned after those on the clothing he remembered and had seen his parents wearing in the recordings they'd bequeathed him. That he hadn't whined or even suggested things be altered to better resemble his trademark costumes said so much to Minion of how he had grown in his ability to think of more than just himself, his own wants and needs and ego, the piscine had no words to tell him just how deeply he was moved by and proud of his ward. When he was dressed and had asked Minion to check him, making sure that everything was on properly and didn't have any unexpected flaws, the fish could only smile and say, "Perfect," wide amber eyes shining with satisfaction. Wherever Mykaal's parents were now, he hoped they were watching as well today, and were smiling on their son, who had come so very, very far indeed.

"Isn't there supposed to be some kind of flower, too?" Megamind wondered as he turned back to inspect his reflection in the mirror, searching for any tiny speck of dust, fingering the sharp jacket edges below the flared collar. "A... what is it called? _Bo-tune-ear?"_

"Boutonnière," Minion clarified. "I wasn't sure you'd want one, sir. The jacket doesn't have any lapels to speak of, though I did make allowances for that, and I was afraid you'd consider wearing flowers too girly or something."

"Boutonnière," the ex-villain repeated softly, carefully, filing away the proper pronunciation for future use. "Will you and Wayne have one?"

The fish nodded, spotting a stray thread that needed to be snipped off the lower back hem of the white tailcoat. "Yes, but both of our jackets are more traditional — or at least, that's what Mr. Wayne told me."

"And you didn't have one made for me?" The big-headed alien sounded faintly hurt.

"Of course I did, sir," Minion assured him as he took the small finishing scissors to nip away the offending thread. "They're in a cooler out in the SUV; we won't need to put them on until we get to the park. You know, sir, when the Terror Trio practically disintegrated my usual cybersuit, I was irked that it would be a while before it could be fixed, and when you didn't argue about me using this one for a while, I thought it would get to be irritating, wearing clothes when I didn't have very many. Now, I think it was a stroke of good luck — maybe even destiny! I like the gorilla suit, don't get me wrong, but I think I would've felt like a _really _weird King Kong with a Godzilla head, showing up at your wedding like that. I have to admit, I _like _being able to look almost like a normal human for such a very special occasion."

And he did; the clothing he'd prepared for his role as the best man was very traditional for a summer outdoor wedding, a cream-colored linen suit with a sapphire blue vest, the short cutaway jacket open and buttonless, but with the customary lapels. When he stood straight after making a final check for stray threads, he saw Megamind smiling at him in the mirror, green eyes bright. "I'm glad you like it — and I'm glad I finally got over my problems with you using that body. It may not have quite the presence and brute force of your usual robotic suit, but it's rather like me wearing white. Sometimes, it's a nice change, and more suitable to the occasion than the same old thing."

"That's true," the piscine agreed with a restrained toothy grin, trying to achieve some semblance of suave that didn't look as cheesy as Wayne could when he went around flashing his Metro Man smile. He grimaced. "Ugh, I need to remember to just be myself for the camera. Okay then, sir, I'm going to go check to make sure Ms Roxanne's all set. The chauffeur called and will be here in about fifteen minutes, so if you'll just head out to the SUV and make sure the other brainbots get loaded into the back, I'll be right out to join you, and we can go."

Megamind nodded smartly and checked himself one last time in the glass as his sidekick headed for the door. A sudden memory flashed before his eyes, of a broken mirror in a dark lair, Minion leaving, happiness about to turn into heartbreak...

"Minion...?" His voice was small and uncertain, his green eyes large and almost frightened as he looked to his old friend.

His guardian smiled back, his own amber eyes full of confident affection. "It's going to be just fine, sir," he promised. "Better than just fine. You know that."

The nervous hero hesitated, still uncertain for a moment more, then he nodded, and the moment passed. "Yes, I do. Tell Roxanne I love her, okay?"

Minion's smile turned wry. "I'll tell her, sir, but I'm sure I don't need to. Unless it'll make you feel better."

"It would. Thank you, Minion. I don't believe there's another fish as fantastic as you in the entire universe."

"Probably not," was the smug agreement, and then he was gone.

Megamind glanced back at the mirror, and once again saw the glass as it truly was: smooth, uncracked, and bright silver. He took a deep breath, told the shark-toothed butterflies in his stomach to either go away or at least calm down, then lifted his head high and started out.

It was time to get rid of those old, bad memories of pain and illusions, and time to make some _real_ dreams come true.

* * *

When the SUV arrived at Cave Point, all of Minion's careful planning and detailed checking proved its worth. The local police had seen to it that the areas of the park requested by Judge Crenshaw had been cordoned off for the coming wedding. Until the florist arrived to set up things per their instructions, the police had permitted visitors into the reserved area; it was only after things for the wedding had begun being set up that they had asked people to keep away. The visitors had been cooperative, and some were politely curious, hanging about just to watch the proceedings. They would have done so even if the persons getting married were complete, unknown strangers, for the Point was a lovely place for a wedding, any wedding.

On the drive over from Sister Bay, clouds had rolled across the sun, threatening to blot it out and darken the skies, but before they reached the lake side of the peninsula, the band had cleared off again, leaving the sky a clean, sunny summer blue with occasional puffs of fluffy white clouds. They saw on their arrival that Judge Crenshaw and his wife were already there, chatting with the police and some of the curious visitors. When he spotted the vehicle carrying the groom and his best fish, he waved and pointed to the parking area which the police were reserving for the various members of the actual wedding. Minion smiled broadly as he maneuvered the SUV into its designated space.

"Ah, the florists did a wonderful job!" he exclaimed, delighted. From the car, they could see that a path had been marked out from the reserved parking area to the promontory, stakes of white and blue flowers set every ten feet with white ribbons draped between them, acting as a cordon. The breezes were gentle today, so the ribbons swayed gracefully, and the floral arrangements remained intact. That was the extent of the preparations; lovely though they were, even Minion in his enthusiasm had felt anything more would spoil the natural beauty of the place.

He looked over at Megamind, who was taking deep, deliberate breaths. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked, concerned.

The blue head nodded. "I'm fine, just a little... jittery. What if the judge changes his mind and won't marry us? What if Roxanne changes _her _mind and tells me to get lost? What if Wayne _does _show up in a dress? What if it rains?" The green eyes widened almost impossibly as his voice rose to a near-shriek. "Oh my god, what if we get another storm like last week, and Roxanne gets washed away and crashes down onto those rocks—!"

Minion set one hand on his friend's shoulder before he shot through the van's roof in skyrocketing anxiety or his big head exploded. "Not gonna happen, sir, any of it. The judge is a good, honest man, Ms Roxanne isn't going to change her mind, if Mr. Wayne shows up in a dress, he'll wish he hadn't, and there aren't any other what-ifs that matter. The weather's fine, and this is just normal nervousness. The best thing for it is to get up and _do_ something, keep yourself busy until it's time for the ceremony. C'mon, let's get the brainbots out and give them their instructions before they start chewing on the upholstery!"

The remaining time was filled with such last-minute things as Minion had suggested. The brainbots were freed from their confinement, but with very strict instructions as to what was expected of them during the rest of the day. The judge came over and introduced his wife, Alicia, along with the police officers who would be helping them keep things orderly. None of them expected any trouble, but when obvious celebrities were getting married, anything might happen, so it was wise to take precautions. They in turn were introduced to those celebrities and the brainbots, the latter of whom were truly on their best behavior, studying the people and the site curiously, but not so much as threatening to nip or poke anyone. Blinkie, as the leader of the camera bots, was especially aware of his job, and helped to direct the others and keep them in line.

Finally, after Minion had brought out the boutonnières and fastened them to their jackets, the judge signaled that it was time for them to get into position. As they headed across the lawn to the top of the short slope that led down to the promontory, vehicles could be heard approaching. Megamind glanced back, expecting to see the limo, but instead, he saw three vans filled with passengers pull into the reserved parking area. One of the policemen approached the first vehicle; a window rolled down so that he could talk with the driver. A few moments later, the officer nodded and waved them into an open parking area beyond the rented black SUV.

When Megamind stopped to look back, so did Minion and the judge. "Do you know who they are?" Crenshaw asked as people started to climb out. By their clothing, they weren't merely visitors, as all were nicely dressed — like guests for a wedding. Both hero and sidekick frowned as they squinted to see who had arrived, fearing vans full of prying paparazzi or raucous curiosity seekers — or worse, cohorts of Mitchell's, sent to stop the wedding. But when an older couple started to make their way down one side of the path, both aliens gasped.

"Warden Thurmer?" Megamind said, startled as he made the identification.

"So you do know them?" Crenshaw asked. "Were you expecting them?"

"Know them, yes, but not expecting them," the reformed villain admitted. In fact, he recognized all the new arrivals, eight of whom came down one side of the marked path, eight of whom came down the other. To their right was Ralph Thurmer, the man who had been Megamind's legal state-appointed guardian throughout his young life, a much older man now, but one who seemed less weighed down by the world since his recent retirement, accompanied by his wife, Emily. Behind them were Steven and Jeannette Davis. Officer Davis had been the kindest of the guards who had helped look after young Blue during his most vulnerable years as a resident of the prison, and who had remained kind toward him even during his years of villainy. His wife had listened to all Steve's stories about the alien boy and his fish living in the prison, and had taken them into her heart even though she had never met them.

Following them were two younger couples. The first was one Philip and Leila DeVries, a social worker/therapist at the prison whom Megamind had known only for about five years, and his wife, a member of the Metro City school board. DeVries had been convinced from their first meeting that the self-proclaimed supervillain had too strong a sense of decency and morality to remain a criminal all his life — and though Megamind had firmly denied it, in the end, the therapist been right. Ever since he decided to give up his life of crime and turn hero, DeVries had been one of his staunchest supporters and defenders, insisting both privately and very publicly that it _was_ possible for a man to change his ways when he was given a fair chance. He had been vocal and firm in his defense, and though there were very few people Megamind could call a true friend, DeVries was one of them.

The last couple on that side of the cordon was Josh Cabela and his girlfriend Bethany Smythe, the grandson of the late Nick Cabela, whose acceptance and friendship and help on one pivotal December day thirty years ago had had a powerful influence over Megamind's childhood. Nick's son Oscar, Josh's father, had been stationed overseas with the Marines at the time when Nick had been homeless. Nick hadn't wanted to upset him or his family with his problems, so they'd known nothing of his life on the streets until after Warden Thurmer had arranged for a job and a new home for Nick. The family had been living in Cleveland since Oscar's return to the states, and Josh had been transferred by his company to their Metro City branch only a year ago. When he arrived, he had wanted to meet the blue alien who had become something of a family legend to him. Megamind generally had little use for curiosity seekers wanting to meet him privately, but a descendant of Nick's almost felt like family to him, and as Josh was a genuinely kind and interesting person, they had been on friendly terms ever since.

He instantly recognized half of the persons who had come down the sloping lawn on the right-hand side of the ribbon barrier. Marty Nowicki was Roxanne's friend and current cameraman, and had come with his life companion, Edwin Ramos, an air traffic controller at Metro International. Kim Akiyama, a researcher who worked in the legal department of a major national bank based in Metro City, was Roxanne's closest and dearest friend, her roommate from back in college with whom she'd taken that long road trip that had ended in self-discovery; they had remained close ever since, no matter where life or their work took them. Her husband Ken was KMCP's weekend and afternoon weatherman, a laughing, jovial fellow who viewed Roxanne as a sister.

The other four the alien knew only from photographs, as they were cousins of Roxanne's of whom she was very fond, but seldom saw, since they didn't live in the Metro City area. Danielle Westin was her mother's niece, a basically kind and sweet person who taught the first grade in Albany; her husband Henry was a mild-mannered but bright accountant who had done Roxanne's taxes as a favor for many years, regardless of where she lived and worked. Sean Ritchi was her father's nephew, and was as opposite her father in terms of interests and personality as one could get. He was a design engineer working for a major auto company in Detroit, and was into creating viable alternative fuel vehicles, witty and fond of such things as music and astronomy. His wife Lynn was a very retro-hippie artist with her own small studio, quite talented in pottery and sculpture, with a breezy personality one might call ditzy, but nonetheless charming. Like Danielle and Kim, she had been like a sister Roxanne had never had, their husbands like her non-extant brothers.

Megamind realized as he saw them approaching — all smiling, happy, and accepting of him and what was to come — that these were the people, the family and friends that he and Roxanne had said were the only ones they might have invited to the ceremony, had they been married at home. But who — how...?

"Minion?" he asked, needing to say no more than that.

"Sir, I don't know how or why they're here," the ichthyoid swore. "I heard you and Ms Roxanne talk about the people you'd most like to be here today, but I didn't tell them, or invite them."

"That would be Wayne Scott's doing," the retired warden provided as he came near enough to hear them. "He must've heard those same things, and yesterday, he arranged to use his family's jet to bring all of us to Green Bay. He had hotel rooms for us, and had the vans drive us here today. He gave us all strict orders to keep quiet about this, too, since he said you wanted to avoid it leaking to the media and other crackpots until you get home. Perfectly understandable. I had my doubts as to how pleasant a surprise this might be for you, but I also have to admit that I didn't want to miss this." He smiled broadly. "You've come a long, long way, Mykaal, and I'm darned proud to be here today."

The ex-villain didn't know what to say. Judge Crenshaw did. "Are you all right with this?" he asked, ready to have these people escorted out if there was any problem with their presence.

Megamind continued to stare at all of the unexpected guests for a bit longer; then he shook off the sense of shock and managed a shaky smile. "I'm fine with it, unless Roxanne has a problem, and I'm sure she won't. I'm glad, actually. This makes it feel more... honest." He chuckled softly, knowing how that must sound to some of the guests, with whom he had been anything _but_ honest for too many years. When they smiled and chuckled in return, he was relieved, and allowed himself to relax again.

Until the noise of another vehicle's arrival reached his ears. From the less than expert sounds of its handling, it had to be Wayne, making a hasty appearance in his less than preferred means of transportation. "Sorry I'm running late!" the musician bellowed from behind the car he'd driven; from what they could see of him, he was struggling into a blue jacket at the same time he was attempting to set up what appeared to be a big boom box or speaker on the roof of the car, aiming it toward the promontory. "Had a minor technical problem. I passed Roxie's limo outside Bailey's Harbor, she should be about five minutes behind me, now. Minion, where's my boutonnière?"

"In the cooler on the driver's seat of the SUV, Mr. Wayne," the fish called back, amused by the usually unflappable retired hero's antics.

"Great! Hang on, I'll be there in just a sec!"

"I sincerely hope you didn't wear a dress, Wayne," Megamind added, his voice a good-humored threat.

"I promised I wouldn't," came the answering vow as Wayne slammed the door of his car and went to the SUV, only his head and shoulders visible among the vehicles. "Hey, don't you trust me, Megs?"

"I don't know, you didn't say anything about inviting guests..."

"Well, that was part of the surprise I _did _promise," he admitted sheepishly, closing the door of the SUV. "I was hoping you and Roxie wouldn't mind having real family and friends here today, at least the ones you actually _like."_

Finally, he came out from among the parked cars and vans, and they could see the other part of his surprise. True to his word, Wayne wasn't wearing a dress. He was, however, wearing a formal kilt, its tartan pattern woven in shades of blue and off-white, complete with a short solid blue jacket, an ivory broadcloth formal shirt, a simple leather sporran, and the high matching stockings and polished black shoes that completed the outfit and thankfully covered all of him from the neck down, save for the lower part of his knees and a bit of the calves above the stocking cuffs. He grinned as he strode across the lawn, passing something small to Blinkie before joining the others at the top of the brief slope leading down to the promontory and the bluffs.

"It's a legitimate version of the Scott family tartan," he explained to the startled and shocked looks all about him. "I had it made for some family affair a few years back, before I retired. I didn't think I'd ever wear it again, but hey, I thought that under the circumstances, it was appropriate — it's a kind of skirt, but not a dress. You think Roxie'll be upset?"

Getting over his shock, Megamind shook his head, smiling crookedly. "No, I doubt it. But if you hadn't shaved your knees, she might've been less than pleased."

Wayne groaned in remembered misery. "I know, I spent half the night with a belt-sander, making sure I got every last hair! I'm glad it still fits, too. I was kinda worried that not being so active might've made things shift, given me a paunch or something." He looked down to check himself, and was satisfied with what he saw.

"Then if everything's in order, we'd better get into place," Judge Crenshaw suggested. As the waves were only a quiet murmur today, they could all hear the approach of what was likely the bride's limo.

The other participants headed down to the rocky flat of the promontory; Wayne remained where he was. "I'll stay here to help Roxanne down the slope," he told them when his ex-rival glanced back. "It's not steep, but I'm sure none of us want to risk an accidental slip. It's the least I can do as her Maid of Honor." His smile was earnest, not mocking, so Megamind accepted him at his word, nodded once, and continued on to join the judge and Minion on the promontory.

Because of the rise of the slope and the position of the bluff tops below its crest, the parking lot wasn't clearly visible to those out on the Point. They were able to hear the limo stop and its doors open; they saw some movement, a flash of pink followed by a larger flash of white. They heard a woman's voice say something they couldn't quite understand, followed by a single happy bowg. And then Wayne, standing at a better vantage point, signaled Blinkie, who did something with whatever he had been given a few minutes before. In answer, they heard music.

Not the traditional wedding march or anything so common and meaningless. What they heard was a recording of a piano and violin duet, playing the very meaningful "Somewhere" from _West Side Story _— the recording of the very performance Megamind and Minion had given to win the celebrity contest back in March.

The beautifully appropriate music — and the fact that Wayne of all people had selected it, though Megamind suspected Minion's fine fins had a part in it — caused the reformed villain to draw a deep, gasping breath. He held it as the perfectly behaving Pinky appeared, scattering flower petals from a small basket held ever-so gently in her metal jaws, sprinkling the path made by the flower and ribbon cordons with sweet-scented flakes of floral snow. Then Roxanne stepped fully into sight, and he lost his breath completely.

Genius though he was, knowledgeable about so many things in the world, gifted with a near-perfect memory, Megamind would never be able to describe precisely what she had worn at that moment, how her hair was styled, what flowers were in her bouquet and pinned to her hair behind her left ear. He could only say that he saw a vision of perfection in a gown of white with a skirt that floated from her waist to somewhere below her knees like flowing white mists, her shoulders smooth and bare above a bodice of some kind of lace that hugged her as he loved to, closely, to know the form of what he found so exquisitely attractive. He remembered that her short-cut hair was perfect, not a strand out of place, shining golden-brown in the sunlight, and that her eyes were as blue and sparkling as the small teardrop shaped sapphire and silver pendant she wore around her throat.

That one last thing he noticed in great detail because he had given it to her for her birthday in May, at a time when she had been under terrible stress. She had all but thrown it in his face, then, angrily claiming that he paid no attention to what she wanted or liked, that he was thoughtlessly trying to mark her with his colors like a thing he owned. It had been a dreadful day, and he'd been certain she'd thrown his gift in the trash, even after she apologized for her petty outburst, fueled by her worries over her new job and his preoccupation with the new group of supervillains. Seeing her wearing it now brought such a huge lump to his throat, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to speak or breathe again. She hadn't gotten rid of it, and she'd chosen to wear it on this most important of days in their life as a couple.

As Wayne gallantly offered her his arm to escort her safely down the slope and onto the promontory — grinning at the way in which Roxanne swept him with her eyes from head to toe and lifted one droll eyebrow — the guests and more distant onlookers followed discreetly, like the floating brainbots under Blinkie's direction, to watch and to witness and to share the moment, but not to intrude. Pinky drifted to hover beside Minion as Wayne brought Roxanne to the edge of the broad stone slab where the others were waiting. He stopped there, gently kissed her cheek, and let her take the remaining steps alone, to come and stand beside her fiancé clearly and significantly of her own free will. She smiled at her erstwhile rescuer before taking those last steps to join her former abductor who, in the final analysis, had never kidnapped her body as effectively as he had captured her heart.

As they were standing together before the judge, smiling at one another, pleased with all they saw, their witnesses moved to stand behind and beside them, and Judge Crenshaw cleared his throat lightly to claim their attention. Crisply officious but not stuffy in his gray suit with a white shirt and striped blue tie, Crenshaw looked at the faces that turned toward him — eager, hopeful, wistful, proud, happy, even curious among the more distant park visitors who were politely watching — and smiled, his bright hazel eyes twinkling as the gentle breeze ruffled his graying brown hair as it made the sheer overskirt of the bride's gown flutter softly.

"Friends and family," he began, his baritone — trained to cut through the noise of a courtroom uproar — easily able to project so that all could hear without shouting. "We are gathered here today in this unique and beautiful place to witness the coming together of two unique and beautiful people, Roxanne Ritchi and Mykaal Thejhan, whose hearts and spirits are entwined as one. They now desire to profess before you and all the world their intention henceforth to walk the road of life together. The essence of the commitment of marriage is the total acceptance of another person in love, in friendship, and in respect. It is therefore a decision not to be entered into lightly, but rather undertaken only after great consideration and with fullest respect for both the other person and oneself. These qualities do not depend on space and time. Overcome space and all that is left is here. Transcend time and all that is left is now. Love, friendship, and respect must exist here and now, in the present, in order to survive until tomorrow and into the future."

He turned his eyes now to focus directly on the two standing before him, his smile and his words for them alone. "Love is not for the faint of heart nor for the merely sentimental; it is not just a feeling, or an emotion, or an attitude. It is a way of life that encompasses the ultimate act of self-sacrifice: living for the good of another. To live one's life by love is the most difficult thing to do, the greatest act of true heroism. It takes the most strength, the most discipline, the most commitment, and the most faith of anything in this life. And yet without love, we are nothing."

Somewhere, soaring above the waters beyond him, the cries of gulls could be heard, joining with the merrier chirps and trills of smaller birds in the woodlands along the bluffs. From among the watching visitors on the hillside, a child's voice said, "Wow, Mommy, he really _is _blue!" followed by the mortified shushing of more than one of the child's elders. The perfectly innocent, nonjudgmental statement of delighted fact brought smiles and chuckles to nearly every face, and Crenshaw continued, beaming almost as brightly as the bride and her slightly purple-cheeked but nonetheless amused groom.

"Love as it is expressed in marriage is a noble bond of human life, of hearts, of minds, of spirits. It is the most intimate of human contracts, an obligation, a commitment to each other to share life itself and all that it encompasses: the joy and the sadness, the triumphs and the tragedies, the laughter and the tears, both giving and taking with patience, tolerance, and forgiveness, forever. It transcends legality, yet can create in itself a binding agreement within the law."

He fixed the couple with a very serious but not stern gaze. "Roxanne and Mykaal, knowing these things, is it the wish and desire of you both that we proceed with this marriage?"

They traded glances, knowing even as they did so that such confirmation was unnecessary. "Yes," they said, almost in the same heartbeat.

Crenshaw nodded his acceptance of their statement. "Then please join hands and face each other, and say to one another the words of your solemn promises."

This part they had discussed in making the final arrangements for the ceremony; they had agreed that they would stick with tradition, and Megamind would speak first. In the pause while Roxanne handed her bouquet to Wayne before taking his hands, the blue genius knew there was no question that he would remember perfectly the words he had chosen to say. Aside from his highly retentive memory, he had agonized over those words for three days, wanting them to be just so. Yet he still felt a natural sense of nervousness, the brief anxiety that he would do or say something wrong, would make a blunder that would offend her, would make her change her mind. He had made so many unintentional mistakes over the years, even after they had acknowledged the nature of their feelings for one another. What if...?

But when she turned to him and he saw in Roxanne's blue eyes and beautiful face not only her affection and her trust but also her own worry that she might make a similar mistake, the question of what if flew from his mind like the white gulls in the sky. He smiled, reassuring both himself and her as he took her offered hands, drew in a deep breath, then spoke, not loudly but clearly, without hesitation.

"I, Mykaal, take you, Roxanne, to be my wife, to share my life and all that I have and all that I am and all that I will be with you. Because of you, I have been given a second chance in life: a chance to find a true purpose, and true happiness. I give you my love, my heart, and my hope for our future together. I promise to respect you, to trust and support you, to help and protect you, and to care for you and cherish you always, to the best of my ability. I hope to bring you joy, and to learn to love you more each day, through all the days to come. Through the best and the worst of all that yet may be, my love for you will be constant and eternal."

Minion knew that was his cue. Extremely glad that he had no words to speak — as the burbling noises from his habitat made it clear that he was fighting hard to keep from sobbing like a baby, sounds that brought well-concealed laughter to both his friends — he stepped forward to hand his ward the ring. Without the engagement ring portion of the set, the plain band appeared to be a tiny silver-hued crown, a tiara all its own for the woman who ruled over the giver's heart. When the diamond ring was paired with it later, they would fit together, perfectly, beautifully. As Minion stepped back again, still burbling quietly, Megamind turned his lady's left hand to slip the narrow but meaningful band into its rightful place. Roxanne's smile of acceptance nearly melted him.

But then it was her turn to speak, and he melted all the more from the look of loving stubbornness that she gave him, the stubbornness a thing he knew very well from all the years of his villainy, but now tempered by affection into a determination to grasp happiness for both of them, and never let go. She spoke only slightly more loudly, using a form of her professional speaking voice that would carry to everyone witnessing the event, softened by the love with which she infused the words.

"I, Roxanne, take you, Mykaal, to be my husband, asking that you be only who and what you truly are and not what I would have you be; loving the person I have come to know and cherish, putting behind me forever any shadows of our past lives. Because of you, I laugh more often, I smile more freely, I dare to dream again. Because of you, I see the world through new eyes, your eyes, and I find beauty where before I had seen only darkness. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you, caring for you, supporting you, helping and trusting you, being there for you in all life may have in store for us, and I vow to be true and faithful to you, through the best and worst of all that yet may come, to love you faithfully and forever."

When Wayne didn't react to his cue as promptly as Minion — having found it necessary to pull out a handkerchief to stem a flood that was threatening to not merely break his resolve not to cry, but to blast it into a million tiny bits — Pinky, hovering near his right knee, gave him a whack with her tendril arm, reminding him that he had a job to do, _right now._ Snuffling back his tears, he fished the ring from his pocket and surrendered it to Roxanne, accepting as his due the cocked eyebrow and crooked smile she gave him.

She then turned back to Megamind, took his left hand, and placed the ring on the appropriate blue finger. It was, as expected, a perfect fit, and he looked at it closely as she slipped it into place, curious to finally see what she had considered to be the perfect ring to give him.

He very nearly burst out laughing in delight. The polished silver band had a central embellishment of three twists of metal, braided together — three miniature platinum ropes to wind all about his finger, binding him in love as he had bound Roxanne's wrists with ties of strong but gentle silk that had never once hurt her. He understood just why this seemed so right to her: it was a tiny reminder of how they had come together, and how he was now her willing captive of the heart. It _was_ perfect. He somehow managed to hold in his laughter, but the wide smile and the brightness that lit his green eyes as he looked up into hers told her that he got the point and happily accepted it.

With the exchange of vows and rings completed, the judge nodded his acceptance of them. He stepped forward and, placing his hands over their joined hands, spoke again. "For one human being to love another is perhaps the hardest of all tasks one can undertake. It is the ultimate test and proof of devotion, the work for which all other work is but preparation. May the two of you — of different race but of the same human flesh, which I openly and officially acknowledge this day — fulfill this covenant of love which you have just made. May you give and take from one another with kindness, encouraging and supporting each other in whatever triumphs and trials you may encounter, forgiving each other's faults and mistakes, sharing in each other's joys, helping each other through all the highs and lows in the road of life that now lies before you, together."

Crenshaw stepped back then and released their hands, a look of proud satisfaction on his face. "So now, Mykaal and Roxanne, by the authority granted me by the people of this state and the laws of our nation, it is my pleasure and my very great honor to now pronounce you husband and wife. You may... do what you're already doing!" he finished with a hearty laugh, as they had wasted not a moment before going to the kissing part.

They were, in fact, so utterly wrapped up and lost in one another and their joy in that moment, they didn't even hear the hearty applause and happy cheers from their unexpected guests and the small crowd of politely watching visitors until a laughing Minion and Wayne picked them up. Moving close together, shoulder to shoulder so that the now laughing newlyweds could remain side by side with the hands between them still clasped together, ex-rival and loyal sidekick hoisted up the former villain and his favorite captive to sit on their broad shoulders as they carried them up the gentle slope and to the beginning of their new life together.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XXIV: The Mirror Crack'd  
_

_Afternote: The text for the wedding ceremony is based on bits and pieces drawn from over half a dozen traditional and untraditional civil ceremonies, with additional parts and embellishments added by my peculiar Muse. I hope it seemed suitable. :)  
_


	24. The Mirror Crack'd

_Author's Note: I really, really, really should know better than to announce the title of the next chapter until I'm either finished with it or locked into it. My Muse, Dementia, decided to go into more detail with what happens in this chapter than I'd originally intended, and so, this part gets a chapter of its own. Chapter 25 will definitely be "The Reception Crasher," but until then, I give you this to whet your appetite!_

_And a huge and very appreciative thank you to all those who read and reviewed the last chapter. I was admittedly very nervous over how well it would be received, and I'm both thrilled and relieved to know that it was not only received well, but moved some gentle readers to tears. I'm touched, truly. And again, I will point out that the ceremony was based on bits and pieces drawn from over half a dozen traditional and non-traditional civil ceremonies, as well as from my own imagination._

* * *

XXIV

The Mirror Crack'd

Around three-thirty that same the afternoon, Stewart Mitchell was taking what he felt to be a well-deserved break somewhere in the vicinity of Manitowoc, about eighty miles north of Milwaukee. He was congratulating himself for having made good time without getting stopped once by the police, or by his disgustingly traitorous car. He used to love his Mercedes, but after the last few days, he had every intention of getting rid of the thing as soon as he returned to Metro City. It wouldn't be much of a sacrifice, he imagined, since once he'd convinced Roxanne as to who should be the _real _man in her life, there would be that sweet top of the line Corvette at his disposal — after he had it repainted to suitably erase all the ridiculous markings connecting it to her bulbous-headed blue "boyfriend," of course.

He had finally realized just how that underhanded, despicable criminal had led him a merry — and increasingly expensive — chase for the last week and more, but he didn't blame himself in the slightest for having so readily gone after all the red herrings. Why Megamind would've chosen to take Roxanne on a vacation to a dull place like Door County was beyond his comprehension. The best he could figure was that the alien had dragged her off there because it wasn't easily accessible, and in the remote environs of such a bucolic place, he could get away with almost anything and not be caught.

In fact, the more he thought about it — and with so much time spent driving hither and yon and waiting in increasingly cheaper motels, he had more than enough time to think — the more Mitchell became convinced that Roxanne was a victim. She wasn't the alien's girlfriend or lover; she'd been forced into this sham of a relationship with the criminal, blackmailed by either the network — who wanted her to maintain exclusive and unique connections that they could exploit, and could fire her and have her blackballed in the business if she didn't cooperate — or by the felon himself, who'd probably been insidiously brainwashing and outright abusing her for years.

The latter was obvious, at least to him, from Roxanne's complaints over the past four months concerning her dissatisfaction with the physical aspects of that so-called relationship. It was inevitable that she would become unhappy with it; a sensitive woman such as herself needed the handling of a true gentleman, not a rough, ignorant, violent alien boor. Because of her grievances, Mitchell had convinced himself that she was being both mentally abused by the blue creature, quite likely also systematically punished and regularly raped in an effort to break her spirit and keep her under control. A forced marriage would clinch that control legally, and it was his duty as an upright and moral human being to stop things from going any farther.

Of course, others might consider this rationale his angry, self-centered mind had concocted as a mere excuse for him to push his own desires upon her, but Mitchell felt that his opponents would eventually be forced to concede that he had been right all along. He, after all, was a solid citizen, not a supposedly "reformed" career criminal.

The late start in getting on the road that morning had made him hurry perhaps a bit more than was needed; Roxanne wouldn't be going anywhere for over a week, and that would give him plenty of time to use more gentle persuasion in pressing his suit. But because of the way all the delays and unexpected car troubles had roiled his gut, he hadn't really had a proper meal in several days, so he decided to take a break and have an early dinner at a small restaurant outside Manitowoc. Just as he was about to head in, his phone rang with Zaleski's ringtone, and he figured it would be better to take the call in the privacy of his car.

"Make it quick, Leo," he said snappishly in lieu of a more polite greeting. Really, why did these things always happen to him at the most inconvenient moments? "I was just about to sit down to a decent meal, which as far as I can see is a rarity around here."

"Where's here?" the hacker wondered.

"Near some hick burg called Manitowoc. Why?"

"Oh, good, that's convenient, then. You may as well go looking for the S. S. Badger docks, Mitchell, and head back to Ludington."

He frowned. "Why? Don't tell me they've been spotted in Metro City..."

He could hear Leo's indifferent shrug. "No, but you might as well head home, you're too late."

The scum's frown darkened. "Too late? For what?"

"For getting Ritchi to change her mind. After it started to look like they really were in Door County, I ran a search of credit cards, public records, parking tickets, driving citations, anything I could get my fingers into, looking for _her_ name instead of Megamind's. Didn't turn up much in the credit area — and I'm pretty sure now that they're staying somewhere totally private, nothing showed up in the hotel reservations systems. But the one thing that _did _pop up was in the county clerk's office."

"Did that hoodlum do something illegal? Get himself arrested for theft or reckless endangerment?"

He could hear the hacker shake his head. "Nope. There was a marriage license issued earlier this week for a Roxanne Ritchi and Mykaal Thejhan." He botched the pronunciation of Megamind's true name almost as badly as Megamind blew _melancholy._

The mere utterance of the words _marriage license _caused Mitchell's blood pressure to soar so precipitously, he couldn't hear for a moment, and couldn't draw enough breath to speak. His face turned such a violent red it was nearly purple as the veins on his neck and at his temples visibly throbbed.

Zaleski had continued talking, unaware of his employer's reaction. "—was called that, but once I had it, I ran a check in the credit systems, and sure enough, there were plenty of transactions in Door County over the past few weeks, under that name. He popped big time for that ring we've heard about, and a bunch of other things at the same jeweler and other shops and restaurants in the area. Anyway, since I could access the computers to get at the license information, I broke into the scheduling databases for the local government officials. The week's schedule for Judge Alexander Crenshaw had them slated to be married today at three. Unless they went for something big and elaborate or there was a delay, it's a done deal by now. So you might as well head home before you make a fool of yourself."

"Don't you _dare _presume to tell me what to do!" Mitchell bellowed back, livid, not just that this man in his pay was giving him unsolicited advice, but that he'd had the gall to even suggest that he was acting foolishly. "This could be just another trick...!"

Leo sounded rather exasperated. "Not in official records. I know my job, Mitchell, and you're paying me to find information. Some things I can't say for sure whether they're legit or faked, like photos, but government records coming out of their own systems are real — unless you actually think Megamind hacked into their computers and planted fake records with what looks to be his real name on 'em, giving him a license to get married out of state."

"That's just it!" the pigheaded producer exclaimed, latching onto that shred of hope. "How do you _know _that's his real name?"

"Because I checked with the Michigan DMV and other sources. He had his name legally changed last month, it's even in the DMV records as Mykaal Megamind Thejhan. There're records that show the governor gave him sanction to accelerate the usual process for name changes, earlier this year. This is for real, not a plant. The two of them got married about half an hour ago."

For a very, very, _very _long moment, Mitchell sat there, glaring at his phone, as if by staring it down he could force the words that had just come through it to change or be erased from existence. "That's not possible!" he finally growled, teeth clenched, then brought the phone back to his ear. "That _can't _be possible! Doesn't it take longer to get a license? The blood tests alone—"

The hacker snorted. "Get into the Twenty-First Century, Mitchell! Hardly any state requires blood tests anymore, and getting a license can go pretty quick if you get a judge to grant you waivers. They did."

The slime bag snorted. "How much did he pay?"

"Huh?"

"Megamind. No judge in his right mind would sign a waiver to give a marriage license to let some piece of alien trash marry a decent human woman, not unless he was bribed. He's not even an actual citizen!"

It was Zaleski's turn to stare at his phone. "Ah, you're wrong there. He's been a legal, naturalized U.S. citizen ever since he turned eighteen; that's a matter of public record. And there's nothing I've seen that points to a bribe."

He chuckled. "It's actually funny, for someone who was a career criminal — or 'supervillain,' in the records I've been turning up, looking for info for you, there seem to be some technical differences in legal application, but I'm not up on all that. Anyway, it's kinda odd, but he's got all his assets in pretty ordinary bank accounts and securities and stuff. I would've thought he'd be the type to go in for offshore and Swiss bank accounts. If he paid a bribe, he's either carrying around a big wad of cash or he found the easiest-to-bribe judge in the world and paid him off with a free lunch, 'cause other than the payments to the jeweler, a clothing shop, a sporting goods supplier, and a grocer, there haven't been many charges or withdrawals to his accounts that go over fifty or sixty bucks. Same with Ritchi. I don't think this guy was bribed."

But Mitchell was adamant. "He _must've _been! Why would he agree to do this?"

"Oh, I dunno," Zaleski drawled. "Maybe because they're both consenting adults and paid the fee?"

"I can't believe Roxanne actually would've consented!"

"Why not?" The hacker was genuinely curious to know why Mitchell was being so insanely stubborn about this.

"Because I know her!" he snapped. "You didn't hear some of the things she told me over the last four months, about what an unreasonable, cold, selfish monster that _thing_ she called her 'boyfriend' really is! It would break your heart to hear the kinds of abuse she's had to put up with! And I don't for one minute believe that she's been with him of her own free will, not now, not ever. He abducted her on a regular basis for over ten years, and who knows what kinds of inhuman brainwashing and unspeakable torture he subjected her to that no one saw or even knew about? He could've done abominable things to her, performed terrible experiments on her brain, and no one would've ever known!"

Zaleski smothered a laugh, aware of some rumors that said Megamind was into experimenting with humans as a sort of "alien autopsy" payback. But he'd also seen news footage of the guy at innocent things like parades and at zoo benefits that showed how we was also notoriously squeamish about such ordinary things as animal droppings. The two just didn't fit together, not in the same person. "That's going pretty far out into left field..."

But Mitchell would not be swayed. "Is it? Why would any sane woman choose a loser like _him _over a wealthy, important, normal-looking person like Wayne Scott _unless _she'd been manipulated and coerced into the relationship against her will?"

Leo snorted softly. "Maybe she just doesn't go for the pile of muscle kind of guy who could give her a gentle love tap and break her neck," he speculated. "And if you want to talk about money..."

"Yes, let's talk about money," the incensed producer snarled back. "Like the fact that I'm paying you to find the information I want and not to waste time arguing with me!"

"Hey, don't get your shorts in a twist, man," the hacker said, a bit defensively. "I'm not arguing with you, but I don't see what you can do about it. Unless they had to postpone the ceremony to another day, it'll be long over by the time you get up there. And you don't even know where they are, exactly. What do you think you're gonna do, anyway? It's too late to go in screaming, 'I object!'"

Mitchell's plastically handsome face scrunched into a most unhandsome grimace. "Not necessarily. Things can be annulled if evidence can be shown that the marriage was illegal or forced. Even if I can't provide actual documents to prove it, I can help Roxanne to see the mistake she made and reconsider. Any judge worth his position will grant an annulment if the bride claims she was forced into it, and I know I can help her understand the horrible things that have been done to her if I can just get her alone for a few minutes."

Zaleski snorted more loudly. "You're no psychiatrist, Mitchell," he pointed out. "Even if you're right and she's been abused or brainwashed, what makes you think you can get her to own up to it in a few minutes when the pros couldn't do it after years of therapy?"

The producer was smugly confident. "Because I know her better than they do. She started opening up to me about very personal, intimate things — and if that piece of alien slime hadn't suddenly up and decided to drag her off into the middle of nowhere, I know it wouldn't've been much longer before she had a real breakthrough. She trusted me, and I know I can get through to her."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that. What rabbit are you gonna pull out of your hat to do that in a few minutes?"

Now, Mitchell smiled, in a way that on Megamind had looked strangely charming, but on him looked positively and genuinely evil. "This whole short-notice wedding. She's a celebrity, and certainly worthy of a magnificent occasion where her adoring fans can see and be awed by the beauty of it. A quickie, cheap, secret wedding in a judge's office is an insult to her, and obviously just a ploy to force her into a greater state of submission, where that despicable alien can control her legally. She told me about the ways he tries to mark her with visible stamps of his ownership — you just have to look at her car and that ridiculous paint job to see it! When the poor thing told me about some sick way he tried to brand her and pass it off as a birthday present, I pointed out how he's been doing that to her all along, and she agreed! We have a _real _understanding, and I'm sure I can persuade her to at least be willing to step away from the situation he's trapped her in long enough to think clearly."

He could hear the hacker drumming his fingers on something metallic, either bored and disbelieving or giving what Mitchell had said due and proper consideration. "Even if you're right," he finally allowed, and from his tone, he had very serious doubts about that, given that Mitchell was under investigation for sexual harassment due to her complaint, "you still don't know where they are. If they're staying in a private home, there won't be any records of it for me to trace. I've already looked into it, and neither of them own property up there, no one in Ritchi's family does, nor is there any evidence that they paid someone to rent a house or condo."

Mitchell grunted. "Yes, I'm sure that criminal broke into someone's vacation house to use it. He couldn't've afforded this, otherwise."

Now, Zaleski sighed. "You're wrong there. I keep trying to tell you, Megamind has money, a _lot _of money, and it's legit, not stolen."

The smarmy producer scoffed. "I'm sure he has ways to make it look legal. And that proves he's up to no good. If he's been throwing money around, trying to impress Roxanne, why didn't he take her somewhere more spectacular, some place where people could see him sweeping her off his feet?"

"I dunno, maybe because he doesn't consider getting hounded by paparazzi romantic or restful?"

Mitchell was going to need to invest in new caps and crowns for his teeth after all the punishment he'd been giving them lately, grinding them. "Just shut up and do your job, Leo. Is there one town up there where there's been more activity on their credit cards?"

There was a pause while the hacker checked. "If you look at it by amount spent, Fish Creek is tops, because of the jeweler's. But if you look at the number of actual transactions, it's either Sister Bay or Ephraim, mostly things like restaurants, grocery stores, even farm markets."

"They have to be staying in that area, then — those are all everyday living expenses. If they're not hiding out illegally and they aren't renting, they have to be borrowing." He thought as hard as he could, but drew a blank. "Who would a criminal like Megamind know who has enough money to own a summer house they aren't even using, who would let _him _use it?"

Zaleski didn't even have to think twice. "Wayne Scott. His parents are loaded, they have vacation homes all over the map, and since Lord Scott died last year, Lady Scott hasn't been doing a lot of traveling. Scott and Megamind have been on better terms since he had to retire and the blue guy took his place, and Scott kinda owes him for sticking him with a fake murder rap for months, so it's not infeasible."

One wouldn't have expected a human face to be able to scowl even more, but Mitchell managed it. "Check it," he ordered.

Zaleski shrugged and did the search. Less than a minute later, he had an answer. "Yeah, the Scotts have a place there, all right, in Sister Bay. Could be a house or a condo, hard to say. That could be where they are, but no guarantees."

"It's a place to start. Text me the address so I can map it on my phone."

"Okay, but I still think you're making a mistake. You've got no proof that she's been brainwashed or coerced, other than some things you claim she told you. You think any judge or cop will consider that even a reasonable suspicion? Especially if they _have _been bribed?"

"Let me worry about that," was Mitchell's dark response. "Someone has to speak up on her behalf, as soon as possible, before things get completely out of control."

Zaleski sniffed. "Seems to me they're already out of control, but hey, you wanna try, knock yourself out. You got the address?"

Mitchell quickly checked to see. "Yes. I'm getting back on the road, then, right away. If I don't get there ASAP, they may take off on some ridiculous honeymoon, and poor Roxanne won't stand a chance."

"What if they're already gone? And even if you do find her today, how the hell are you gonna get her alone long enough to talk to her?"

"I'll find a way. She deserves better, and I intend to make sure she gets it." With that and some brusque instructions for the hacker to keep on eye on things like airline bookings under either of their names, he ended the call. He spared a minute to punch the address into his car's GPS system before starting out again.

His grumbling stomach would just have to wait; this was far, far too important. Roxanne was _not_ going to be consigned to some loveless mockery of a marriage, not if he had anything to say about it. As he turned the car about in the parking lot, he groped under his seat to make sure that if words didn't work or certain career criminals tried to interfere, he would have his best "argument" at hand, if needed.

Prior to that moment, Mitchell had been dancing along that fine line that was the edge of the precipice between sanity and madness, his twisted delusions of self-importance and his distorted view of truths he refused to see taking him farther and farther out of touch with reality. As he pulled out his small but reliable old handgun from a cleverly concealed compartment beneath his seat — something he'd had installed by another "business associate" that he never left home without, strictly for personal protection, of course — he charged across that line with wild abandon and did a perfect ten-point swan dive right over the edge into insanity.

* * *

Unknown to him, in the back seat of his car, Sneaker had caught the signal for the text message to his phone and verified that he did indeed have the correct address for the Scotts' summer home. The stealthbot also got a clear view of the gun and the look on Mitchell's face, and every warning alarm in his cybernetic brain went off as he communicated all this information to his partner on the car's roof.

The instant Snooper received the transmission, a nanosecond after Sneaker registered the situation, all his internal alarm systems went off as well. After a rapid exchange between them, the stealthbots knew exactly what they needed to do. When an alert sent to the communications relay to Daddy and Minion was not acknowledged within five minutes, they knew that they wouldn't be getting a response until after the wedding and the following celebration was over. The special long-range communications with which they'd been equipped wasn't standard; the brainbots were capable of communicating among themselves, but the range of that communications was usually limited to only a few miles, at best. Which left only one way to reliably warn Daddy of the coming danger: get close enough to the brainbots who had been taken to help with the wedding to relay the warning as quickly as possible, before Mitchell could arrive and put his unfriendly "persuasion" to bad use.

Sneaker was trapped within the car, but he wanted to remain to keep an eye on Mitchell, anyway. So Snooper took off at once, making a beeline toward Sister Bay as fast as his little cybernetic body could fly, hoping that Daddy or Minion would be at the expected coordinates to receive the warning, which had now become a literal matter of life or death.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter XXV: The Reception Crasher_


	25. The Reception Crasher

_Author's Note: Wow, I wasn't expecting the reaction I got with the last chapter - but I'm not complaining, far from it! Thanks, all - and I'm especially touched this time because that chapter contained not a single character who appeared in the movie. Definitely a landmark when it comes to making acceptable OCs! This should bring us to within two chapters of the end, though I have a feeling that there will be some side stories spinning off from this one to come, some of the tales that were referred to but not shown, and some other things that will grow from it. Thanks again to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. Enjoy!_

* * *

XXV

The Reception Crasher

When the brief but necessary business of signing and witnessing the documents that were the legal certification of the marriage was completed and the papers safely tucked into Judge Crenshaw's pocket, to be filed first thing Monday, the happy couple was bustled into the back of sleek limousine that had brought Roxanne and Pinky from the house. There were a few difficult but amusing moments when Pinky charged into the limo, ready to return as she had come. The mere idea that she should go with Minion and Mr. Wayne instead had the poor pink brainbot positively heartbroken, if such was possible for a brainbot, apparently feeling that her usefulness for the day was ended.

When Roxanne suggested that Pinky should take custody of her bouquet until they reached wherever the dinner was to be held, she perked up. Then when Daddy added the idea that she accompany Josh Cabela and his girlfriend to help provide directions — since someone had to drive Wayne's rental car, and the young man had volunteered, sparing the poor vehicle another bout of the retired superhero's bad driving — she was positively ecstatic. Josh and Bethany were fortunately amenable to the idea of having the bot go with them, and the problem of Pinky's hurt feelings (and the potential for her to cause trouble because of them) was averted.

Although Wayne and Minion were going to lead the other vehicles carrying the Crenshaws and the wedding guests to the site of the dinner, the musician had waved for the limo driver to head out even before he joined Minion in the SUV. That surprised Megamind and Roxanne for a moment or two, until the driver's voice explained from beyond the dark privacy screen separating the front and rear compartments.

"Mr. Scott gave me instructions to take the two of you via the 'scenic route,'" the polite baritone said as they started down the narrow, wooded road back to the highway. "He and Master Minion wanted a bit of time to make sure everything is in order before you arrive. If you're concerned that I might have underhanded motives in starting off early, I would remind Miss Roxanne of how reliably I drove her everywhere she wanted to go after her thirtieth birthday party."

The bride blinked for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Tyler!" she exclaimed, remembering. "Are you still working for the Scotts? I thought you'd retired a few years ago."

"I did," the chauffeur replied with an audible smile. "I moved back to where the rest of my family is now, near Green Bay. When Mr. Scott told me he needed a reliable, trustworthy driver to do a very important favor for him today, I was more than happy to say yes. And congratulations, ma'am, sir. If there's anything you need from me, you have only to ask."

When the intercom clicked off, Megamind favored his new wife with a puzzled expression. "That's Gerald Tyler, the Scotts' old chauffeur," she explained. "I didn't know he was the driver until now. Pinky wouldn't let him help me into the car earlier, she didn't even let him come out to open the door for me. I think she was afraid that if _any _man saw me before we got to the wedding site, it'd jinx everything."

That cleared up a few of the blue hero's questions, but not all. "And he drove you home after your thirtieth birthday party?"

Roxanne nodded. "It was at a club downtown, I'd had a little too much to drink — you know, single woman turning thirty, no real boyfriend, no real prospects, that sort of depressing thing. Wayne was there and he wouldn't let me drive myself home. I told him I didn't want to fly because it was raining, so he called the family chauffeur and told him to take me anywhere I wanted to go. I had Tyler driving me all over Metro for half the night, until I fell asleep in the back and he took me home. I'm not sure, but I think he carried me up to my apartment and had Carlos open the door so he could tuck me in on my couch. I've always thought he's a sweet older man, but nothing more, so don't get jealous. It was actually nice of Wayne to find a driver for today that he and I could both trust, after all the headaches we've had worrying about Mitchell."

Megamind saw her point. In the excitement of the day, it hadn't occurred to him until that moment that the underhanded scum could have abducted Roxanne by posing as the limo driver, if he hadn't still been hours away when she'd first gotten into the car. He dragged one hand across his long face. "I should've thought of that," he kicked himself, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Cut yourself some slack," she suggested, sidling closer to him on the comfortably wide and well-upholstered bench, slipping her arms around his long neck. "We've both had a lot on our minds, lately. It's good that we've had friends like Minion and Wayne to catch the things we missed."

Her reasonable observations coupled with her enticing closeness was more than enough to convince him. He smiled, his own arms going around her waist. "You're right, as usual. And in case I haven't told you already, you look absolutely beautiful."

She kissed him softly, smiling more brightly as she ran her hands up the edges of his flared collar before running them back along his ears. "Thanks, you're very handsome yourself. Minion really did a spectacular job on short notice. Did he have to strong-arm you into wearing white today, or did you just figure it wouldn't hurt to go with tradition?"

His grin was impishly charming. "Neither. I remembered you saying you thought I looked good in white the day we got here, and when Minion showed me what he'd already started, I thought there wouldn't be a more special occasion for it than this." He brought one hand up between them to touch the small sapphire pendant at her throat. "I see you didn't throw it away, like you said you would."

"I couldn't," she confessed. "I was just in a bitchy mood that day, and I knew that the things I'd accused you of weren't true. If you really hadn't been thinking about what I would like or want, you would've gotten me something with spikes or circuitry, not this. You were trying to be considerate, and I was just terrible about it."

"Well, you did apologize the next day. I just thought you must've gone through with your threat to throw it in the trash, because I never saw it again until today."

Her cheeks flushed a most attractive shade of pink. "That's because I lost track of it until I was packing for this trip. I brought it along in case we went somewhere a little more dressy. I was going to wear it then to surprise you."

Now, Megamind laughed. "Oh, you certainly did _that! _I was so surprised when I saw you wearing it, I thought I wouldn't be able to make a sound when the time came, and you'd walk off in a huff, thinking I was having second thoughts!"

She chuckled. "Nah, I would've waited. Besides, if we're playing true confessions, then I have to admit that I thought I'd die laughing the second I saw Wayne in a kilt! If he hadn't given me something to hang onto when he did, I would've slipped right down that hill and into the lake!"

They laughed together. "It's certainly been a day full of surprises — mostly because of Wayne." A strangely perplexed look twitched across the blue face. "I have no idea how he knew exactly the people we'd talked about inviting, if we'd waited to do this at home."

"My fault," Roxanne confessed. "I mentioned it to him one day when Minion had you out in the boathouse for a fitting, and I called to ask him to bring up a piece of handmade lace that had been my grandmother's for Minion to use in the dress." She touched a delicate lace rose at the center of the bodice's neckline. "He wanted to do the whole 'something old, something new' bit. Wayne asked if I still missed her, we got to talking about family, and the thing about guests came up somewhere in the conversation. I had no idea he'd do this — though I'm glad he did, now. Aren't you?"

Mgamind's green eyes rolled in expressive, but clearly exaggerated, exasperation. "Oh, yes, though at first, I felt a little out-put that he'd presumed to pick our wedding guests."

She ran her thumb down the fine hair of his goatee, smiling. "It's 'put-out,' hon..."

He shrugged. "Whatever. It didn't last, and I'm relieved to hear that _you_ told him. For a few minutes, I was haunted by images of him eavesdropping on our conversations."

"He wouldn't do that, not if he's serious about wanting to earn your trust, and I really think he is."

"So do I. Can we stop talking about _him, _now? If we're taking the scenic route, I'd like to enjoy the... scenery." From his suggestive smile and the way his eyes appreciatively drank in the sight of her, the scenery he wanted to enjoy most was in his arms.

Roxanne used the excuse to snuggle closer to him. "So would I," she agreed. She kissed him lightly, then smiled, a mischievous little smirk. "By the way, you didn't give me the present you promised this morning."

He returned the kiss, but his brow furrowed with worry as he thought hard, trying to remember. "Which present? The moon and the stars?"

"Mm-hm," she confirmed, now kissing the tip of his nose. "I forgot that the way we decided to do things, you wouldn't say, 'I do.'"

He remembered now, grinning broadly. "Oh, I do, Roxanne my love," he vowed with earnest eagerness. "I most _definitely _do!"

She purred her satisfaction. "So do I, Mykaal," she replied just as eagerly and earnestly, sealing their agreement with a kiss that was neither light nor brief. Thus for the remainder of the drive, they took advantage of the limo's privacy to savor their first time alone together as husband and wife.

* * *

About half an hour after the limo left Cave Point, it arrived back in Sister Bay, carefully navigating the turn from highway 57 onto 42 and down the steep hill into the village center. By then, agreeing that it would be in horrible taste to show up late and suspiciously disheveled to the wedding dinner Minion and Wayne had so thoughtfully arranged, Megamind and Roxanne had pulled back from their more vigorous amorous activities and were happily snuggled together, watching the lovely scenery rolling by beyond the side windows. When they reached the village, they expected the driver to continue on past the downtown and head back to the summer house; thus they were surprised when the limo slowed almost to a stop, to make a left-hand turn into a familiar parking lot not far beyond the foot of the hill.

Curious, they sat up straighter, and saw that they had arrived at their destination. They recognized the location, the small lakeside park behind the little café that had become their favorite restaurant in town, the place they had visited on the evening their first day of vacation. But though they knew the spot, they had never seen it like this before, fully decked out for a wedding celebration.

Minion and Wayne had definitely gone all-out. The lavish flowers and tasteful decorations the ichthyoid had felt would be out of place at the magnificently natural Cave Point were a sight to behold here in the little park beside the lake. Through the auspices of both Judge Crenshaw and the goodwill the village had toward the Scotts — in particular Lady Scott, who had been active and generous in yearly efforts to keep the local parks and waterways well-kept and beautiful — the park had been closed for the wedding, as a prominent sign at the parking lot entrance proclaimed. Tables had been set up, playground equipment camouflaged beneath curtains of flowers and ribbon, the little white gazebo where concerts were occasionally held decorated and filled with food and drink for all the guests.

And there were many more guests here than there had been at the Point, but not unwelcome ones. Now that the ceremony was over and the marriage official, the need to keep away those who might have sought to stop or disrupt it was over. Even so, the affair hadn't been broadcast to all and sundry; even these guests had been hand-picked by Minion and Wayne, locals with whom Roxanne and Megamind had become genuinely friendly during their vacation, and who Minion had already met or Wayne knew himself from previous visits. There were a few unfamiliar faces mingled with those they recognized, but all had been properly introduced as family or close friends of those guests who were known. They were all genuinely happy for the newlywed couple, and broke into spontaneously friendly cheers and applause when the limo finally arrived.

Roxanne grinned as they peered out the window as Tyler carefully pulled the limo into the long, narrow lot, slowly headed for the place reserved for them. "Those two," she chuckled, shaking her head in wonder at their two friends, old and new. Minion and Wayne were watching as the limo arrived, but it was clear they were both proud and happy, delighted by how well all their plans and surprises had gone that day. "I have a feeling that they've both been planning for this a lot longer than just the last week or so."

Megamind snorted, no less amused than his bride. "Minion _says _he's only been thinking about this seriously since you moved into the Lair, but I suspect he's thought about it for a lot longer, just not so constantly. I don't mind. He's spent all of his life looking after me, taking care of me, supporting me through thick and thin..." His voice trailed off into what sounded like a badly disguised sniffle.

Roxanne leaned back against him, turning her head to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, erasing the telltale dampness. "I don't mind, either," she assured her groom. "If he ever does manage to find himself that lady fish of _his _dreams, we'll have to make sure it's as wonderful an occasion for him as he made this for us."

"Definitely. Are you ready to face our adoring public, Ms... Mrs..." Megamind's black brows knotted together. "Which is it?" he wondered. "What do _you _want to be called from now on?"

She smiled as the limo finally came to a stop. "By you and Minion — and Wayne, if I could get him to remember — 'Roxanne' is just fine. For my on-camera job, I think I'll have to stick with Ritchi — or maybe I could get my bosses to go with hyphenating it. For the rest of the world, I like Mrs. Thejhan. Like I said, it's new to both of us, it has no bad baggage, and I think it would be a very nice tribute to your parents. After all, if it wasn't for them, you wouldn't be here, and I'd probably have spent the rest of my life wondering why I never found my soulmate."

The matter of his absent parents and the name they had also shared hadn't even occurred to Megamind, and she spoke of it with such unaffected sincerity, he found himself at a complete loss for words. For a moment, his lower lip trembled with a shaky sort of wonder, then he kissed her very deeply, the only way he knew how to express what he was feeling without mere words.

Naturally, that was the moment the door was opened to let them out, but neither cared. The assorted laughs and claps and hoots of approval from those who saw were not truly mocking, but rather the sounds of friends and kin who shared in their happiness. "Thank you," he whispered when their lips parted at the sound of someone clearing his throat.

Roxanne answered with an understanding smile and a quick peck on his nose. "You're welcome."

"Hey guys, are you coming out or will we need to find a fire hose to get you to break it up?" Wayne drawled suggestively.

The bride had a quick comeback as she allowed Tyler to help her from the car. "I'd watch what I'm saying if I were you, Wayne, at least until you get out of that skirt."

The former Metro Man's chagrined smile was apologetic, but not terribly. Happily, Pinky chose that auspicious moment to come flying over with Roxanne's flowers, cheerfully bowging up an excited little storm. The reporter laughed, amused not only by her little pink shadow's antics, but by the surprise they elicited from guests who had never seen a brainbot before. Blinkie and his group were being very discreet, as Minion and Daddy had requested, and were readily noticeable only to those familiar with them, floating amid the branches of trees, perched quietly on roofs and in other good vantage points. Only their camera-equipped eyestalks occasionally stretched out and bent to get a better angle on something Blinkie, as their director, thought looked interesting and should be recorded for posterity.

"Why don't you keep an eye on that for me for now?" Roxanne asked her cybernetic flower girl. "I think I'm going to need both my hands free for a while." Pinky was quite happy to comply with her request, and took the oh-so-important flowers off to stand guard over them, at the table inside the gazebo where the wedding cake Minion had made was on display. She was followed by Little Nipper and Splice, who considered themselves Pinky's personal escort for the day.

Roxanne's cousin Sean — who was standing nearby with his wife, admiring the view of the lake from that vantage — watched the bots with considerable interest. "They _are _a lot like dogs, aren't they?" the tall, thin, bespectacled engineer observed with a bemused grin. "You've mentioned it to us in your emails, Roxanne, but I didn't expect them to be quite like this!"

Lynn, his wife, a willowy blonde whose tastefully unusual clothes reflected her back-to-nature approach to her arts, giggled. "I think they're adorable — and very creative! I love how they're all a little bit different, just like a litter of puppies or kittens!"

Warden Thurmer, who was also nearby, snorted with good humor. "I knew when I didn't let the boy here have a puppy, there'd be consequences," he said in a tone of long-suffering that was obviously feigned.

"It was for the best, sir," Minion assured his ward's former legal guardian. "If a prison wasn't the best place to raise a child, raising a puppy _and _a child would've been impossible! At least with the brainbots, there aren't little... er... organic gifts to clean up, just the odd gnawed boot, an occasional loose bolt, and bits of beat up old hand tools."

Sean blanched. "They _eat_ hand tools?"

"No, they just like to play fetch with them," Megamind said drolly as he climbed out of the limo behind Roxanne. "Where's _your_ little friend, Wayne?"

"Blinkie?" The musician glanced about, then jerked one thumb toward the gazebo. The dining table for the wedding party had been set up on the open lawn that spread out beyond the small white structure, and the head camera bot had taken up a position on the gazebo's roof, from which he had a perfect vantage to observe all the truly important areas of the little park. "He's taking his job _very _seriously, so tagging after me just isn't worthy of his agenda today. C'mon, you two, let's get this party going!"

And so they did. The food and drink that had been set up inside the gazebo had been meant to be hors d'oeuvres and snacks for the guests, not the actual meal. Properly set tables with linens and china and crystal had been arranged for the dinner, for precisely the correct number of guests. The flowers on the tables were simple and elegant, a variety of white blossoms with sprays of tiny blue forget-me-nots, one of the very few truly blue flowers in existence. Minion obviously did not believe in fake or dyed flowers, and as in these climes, the small blue flower was well past its natural season, the devious fish must have either found a specialty greenhouse that forced them, or he'd gotten Wayne to scour the planet, looking for a place where they were currently in bloom.

The location for the celebration had been chosen for several reasons, the first being that the summer house, large and lovely though it was, wasn't really adequate for the needs of so large a group. The property was large, but half was a sloping hillside and much of the rest either wooded or covered with shrubs. Besides, it was where the happy couple would go when it was time for them to leave the party, and it simply didn't make sense for them to have to wait until all the guests were cleared out and the place cleaned up before they could be alone.

The second reason was one of both pleasant familiarity and simple convenience. Minion knew that his boss and Ms Roxanne had a fondness for the little restaurant on the opposite side of the parking lot; he'd grown quite fond of it himself during the past week, as they'd taken their meals there several times in order to free up time for both wedding preparations and relaxation. The owners and staff had been delighted when they'd been asked to cater food as well as provide service for the wedding dinner.

The more elegant canapés and champagnes and fine wines, as well as other special dishes and additional service, were provided by another local restaurant with which Wayne was very familiar, a fine but still rather casual bistro he had preferred over the snootier traditional supper clubs and "North Shore Nancy" places his parents had favored. He had known one of the chefs — now the owner — and the wine steward from back when he'd still been able to snatch a few days of vacation once or twice a year, and when he'd approached them for short-notice help with the wedding, they'd been happy to agree. Between the two restaurants, they had arranged for a very pleasant repast, offering several different choices of each course to accommodate every preference or potential medical need that man and ichthyoid could think of. The only thing conspicuously absent was, of course, fish, but there were other, more agreeable varieties of seafood available for those who wished it.

In order to volunteer their services in attending those at the head table, Marco and two of the other students from abroad who'd worked the summer as wait staff at the café had put off heading to their colleges by two days, figuring that it couldn't hurt since classes wouldn't begin for another week, anyway. The dinner was a happy affair for everyone involved, both guests and hired help — for Wayne insisted that all those helping be properly compensated for their time and efforts, whether they'd volunteered or not — and laughter flowed as freely as the food and drink. Minion and Wayne kept surreptitiously careful eyes open, just in case trouble should rear its ugly head, but as they moved into the later hours of the afternoon, all was still quiet.

The meal was coming to an end, with the guests chatting amiably as they nibbled at things while dishes were cleared and tables tidied. During the course of things, many had come to personally congratulate the bride and groom, which had led to some interesting, if brief, conversations. Roxanne knew Warden Thurmer and his wife, and was also acquainted with the DeVries, but she had only heard of the Davises and Josh Cabela through Megamind. In turn, Megamind knew Marty and his partner Edwin as well as Kim and Ken Akiyama because of their connections to KMCP, but he had known of Roxanne's cousins only through her tales of them, and the emails they exchanged.

It didn't take long at all for them to understand why these were special people in each other's lives. Roxanne found the Davises very easy to like, and Josh Cabela was a genuinely funny young man who could easily have a career as a comedy writer, if he ever decided to try. Being an engineer, Sean Ritchi was someone Megamind found easy to talk to, as well as his wife Lynn, who was artistically interesting, if a bit of a flake. Her cousins Danielle and Henry were sweet people, friendly, if on the shy side, and the ex-villain found it entertainingly easy to make Danielle blush, until Roxanne put an end to that with a whispered threat concerning their wedding night and a couch with his name on it.

It was coming to the part of the celebration in which it was traditional for toasts to be offered for the newlyweds when a rather agitated Splice came bowging up to the head table. Minion intercepted the brainbot before he could barge in on a lively discussion about something concerning thermodynamics between his boss, Sean Ritchi, and Ken Akiyama. "I'll see what he wants, sir," the ichthyoid said when Megamind looked up, puzzled and faintly annoyed by the bot's shrilly yapping interruption. "Someone's probably trying to sneak a taste of the wedding cake or something. I'll take care of it."

As he headed off with the bot, Roxanne leaned over to her new husband. "I have something I need to take care of myself," she whispered confidentially, needing to add no greater explanation. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't let anyone start making toasts without me." He smiled sappily when she kissed the ear into which she'd whispered; she smirked at how he then jumped right back into the discussion without missing a beat.

She caught up with Minion halfway to the gazebo, which was for the moment in the same direction as the park's washrooms, a small building discreetly tucked away in the middle of a grove of trees and shrubs. "Anything important?" she asked the piscine as he tried to keep Splicer from creating a scene while he led the way to whatever the bot felt required immediate attention.

Minion sighed and shrugged. "I hope not. You know how excitable the brainbots can get, sometimes. With Pinky's 'I'm so special, look at me' attitude today, I can just see the three of them getting into some kind of squabble, ripping your bouquet to shreds and decimating the wedding cake in the process. It's just the sort of mischief they'd get into, and leave it to one of 'em to come tattling on the others."

Roxanne groaned. "I'm sorry if I encouraged her too much, I thought it would help keep her out of trouble, giving her something specific to do."

Minion gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh, I know, Ms Roxanne, and I think it was a good idea. Really, all the bots have been behaving themselves very well today, but it was only a matter of time before one of them got bored and restless and started causing a fuss. I'm sure this isn't anything, really. Don't worry about it — and don't let Sir worry, either. Whatever trouble the brainbots have gotten themselves into, I'm sure it's something I can handle."

Now, the brunette returned the smile. "I'm sure you can, Minion, and thank you. You've helped make this a very, _very _special day, no matter what the brainbots have done. And from now on, I'd be very happy if you'd just call me Roxanne. We're all family now, aren't we?"

The fish turned his whole finny body toward her, his smile both shy and toothy. "I guess we are. But I might forget myself for a while, or when we're in public and it seems too... familiar. Is it okay if I call you Mrs. Roxanne, then?"

She chuckled. "Perfectly. Or Mrs. Thejhan. I've decided that's the name I want to use, outside of work."

"Really?" Minion's big amber eyes danced with delight. "Oh, Sir will be so happy! Does he know?"

She nodded. "I told him just before we arrived, and you're right, he was _very_ happy. I can't bring back your world or his parents, but at least I can help their family name live on a little longer."

The fish was truly touched. "That was very thoughtful of you, M— Roxanne," he corrected, a little bashfully. "I'll try to remember, I promise!"

Grinning, Roxanne stood on tiptoe to kiss the part of his dome to which he was physically closest. "I won't ever get mad at you for trying to be polite, Minion. I just want you to know that I'll always be _your_ friend, too. Ah, there's the path!" she added, saving him from further happy embarrassment. "If you'll excuse me, nature calls. And if Pinky gives you any trouble, just tell her that if she doesn't listen to you, I'll be _very_ angry with her!"

Minion laughed as she hurried on up the walkway that led into the grove where the restroom building was hidden. "I'll remember that, thanks!" he called after her, hurrying on in his own direction. Splice was getting impatient, and he knew that any further delay might make a bad situation worse.

* * *

He didn't know quite how bad the situation actually was until Splice brought him not to the gazebo but to the back of a park service building beyond it, not far from the lakeshore. There he saw not just Little Nipper and two of the camerabots, but also Snooper, who was whining and bobbing in great distress.

Minion didn't know that the stealthbot was a mite tuckered from his hasty flight from Manitowoc. He also didn't know that the bot was a good deal more upset with the fact that when he'd gone straight to the coordinates for the summer house, several miles east of the park, he'd been frantic when he'd found the place empty, the communications interface unattended, and no other bot within range to pick up his distress signal.

But Megamind had designed the stealthbots to be particularly resourceful, something that could be crucial to even an artificial intelligence intended for covert surveillance. So after a few minutes of dithering, searching the house and grounds to make sure no one was there, Snooper had begun to employ a standard search pattern, broadcasting his recognition signal to any of Daddy's brainbots or other communications devices that might come within range. The spiral sweep took him farther and farther from the house, and _finally, _after what seemed like forever but was actually less than ten minutes, the sweep took him far enough to the south and west to make contact with Splice, the newest and most advanced of the handful of brainbots at the park.

The fact that Splice was newer than the others also meant that he had marginally more common sense. When he picked up Snooper's mayday and responded to it, he had the intelligence to request that Snooper shut down the warning signal before the other, less prudent bots picked up on it and flew into a total, wild panic. Not that Splice was doing a whole lot better. With their communications watches taken off for the day and Minion in this different robot body, talking directly with him or Daddy was impossible; the specialized human-like cybersuit just wasn't equipped for it in the way Minion's gorilla suit had been.

But Splice knew the instructions he'd been given that morning: Do _not _bother Daddy unless Minion says it's okay; go to Minion first with any problems, or in an absolute emergency, to Mr. Scott. So Splice had done just that, even though Minion apparently thought he'd forgotten his orders, believing he intended to disturb Daddy. And when he _finally_ managed to get the piscine to follow him to where Snooper was waiting, they wasted no time in trying to tell him the awful news. Since talking directly was not an option, Snooper went for a visual, projecting the images Sneaker had relayed to him against the blank back wall of the concrete service building.

Sneaker had chosen the images to send very well indeed. The video showed Mitchell talking on his cellphone, programming his car's GPS to show both where he was and where he was heading, and the gun he pulled out from under his seat, checking to be sure it was loaded. Minion got the message, loud and clear. "Mitchell's coming, and he's armed?" Snooper bowged a sharp affirmative, relieved. "What time was that video taken?" The bot projected a close-up of the car's dash, which showed the time as 3:35. "Where is he now?"

Snooper made an unhappy, almost whining sound. Minion thought hard for a moment. "You don't know — agh, that's right, the snoopers are the model Sir equipped with GPS, not the sneakers, and Sneaker's probably still out of communications range. I'll have to mention that to the boss later, it'd be better if both kinds were. Splice, go get Mr. Scott, and hurry! He can go looking for Mitchell's car faster than any of you could."

Fortunately, Wayne was nearby, helping a hired DJ set up music for the rest of the party, and Splice didn't have a hard time persuading him to follow. It took even less time for the retired hero to get the picture. "Mitchell's either on 42 or 57, if he's trying to get here fast. Unless he got stopped by police or held up some other way, he can't be more than ten or fifteen miles off."

"Can you check without giving yourself away?" Minion wondered, his flat fishy brow furrowed with concern of several types. "I don't want to bother Sir or Ms Roxanne with this, but I know you have to be careful, too."

The retired hero nodded. "Yeah, so long as I don't move so fast that I cause sonic booms or burn my clothes off and move high enough to keep from being spotted too easily, it should be okay. I'll have to check both highways, though, since he could've gone either way. It shouldn't take more than five minutes, ten, tops."

Minion fluttered his fins in a piscine version of a nod. "If you do spot him, just come back and tell me. We can call in the police and have them keep an eye out so he doesn't get this far."

Wayne fully agreed, and slipped off to a quiet, secluded area where he could take to the skies without being noticed. Minion instructed the two brainbots to keep trying to establish contact with Sneaker, just in case Mitchell managed to give Wayne the slip and made it within the bots' intercommunications range before the musician returned.

What none of them knew was that Mitchell had already done so, and Sneaker had neither given nor received a warning signal.

* * *

It was all that truly heinous creature's fault, every bit of this inhumanly awful situation. If Mitchell hadn't believed it before, he did now. The very idea that Megamind had dared to even _try_ to force Roxanne into marrying him was so intensely revolting to him, he didn't think there could be a punishment truly suitable for such an atrocious crime of willful degradation, of true bestiality. He was so fixated on the idea of putting an end to all of this, to saving his poor, abused, deluded Roxanne from what certainly had to be a living nightmare, he came perilously close to being slowed down yet again by the traitorous police. When he saw the lights go off on a sheriff's patrol car that had been hiding under the span of a road that arched over the expressway, he'd thought at first that it was coming for him, but it nabbed another car going slightly faster instead.

After that, Mitchell was careful, very careful. He kept an eye on his radar detector, slowed whenever it caught anything within range, sped only when he knew it would be safe. He was determined to rescue Roxanne from the clutches of that alien monster, but being hindered by over-zealous police bent on harassing him with speeding tickets would only delay him, and that he would not suffer. He hurried, but with crafty caution.

The one delay he could not avoid was the need to stop for gas. When he could no longer use the expressway and was back on a stretch of ordinary country highway, the gauge was just barely above empty. He had yet to cross the bridge to the upper peninsula, so he knew he didn't have enough fuel to make it the rest of the way to his objective. He stopped at the next gas station in some nameless little bump in the road town, and decided the controllably brief break was a good thing. He'd been tense and sitting for so long, his joints and muscles were protesting, and he realized he couldn't be of much help to Roxanne if he reached his goal and fell flat on his face because he'd stiffened up so badly.

The antiquated small town station didn't have pay-at-the-pump options, so he was forced to stretch his legs a bit more to go inside to pay. While there, he grabbed a cup of coffee, figuring the extra jolt of caffeine would help keep him focused. On his way back to the car, however, a wasp came buzzing at him, and in his efforts to avoid being stung, he wound up spilling half of the dark liquid on the front of his tan slacks. It had the misfortune of hitting him right on the crotch, not hot enough to burn, but making a splotch large and dark enough to be terribly embarrassing.

Mitchell may have been in an insanity-driven rush, but he was not about to show up to rescue Roxanne looking like a piece of filthy trash who'd soiled himself. He angrily wasted a few minutes more, grabbing a clean pair of pants from his hastily-packed bag and going into the station's restroom to change. When he returned to the car, he didn't bother to return the wet slacks to his bag where they might ruin something else; he simply tossed them into the back, letting them spread out to dry.

And that was how he discovered he wasn't alone.

When he saw the strange, large hump under the cloth that shouldn't have been there, he started slightly, until he remembered that Megamind was able to make things appear more or less invisible. He got into the car quickly, closing the doors and locking them before pulling back onto the road. Adjusting the rearview mirror slightly, he watched the hump out of the corner of his eye, and sure enough, he could see a strange distortion, about the size and shape of one of the criminal's robotic slaves.

Mitchell didn't know how long he'd been under surveillance, but he was sure it had begun before he'd left Metro City. It had probably been going on ever since he had first befriended Roxanne months ago, and had helped her begin to see how she had been suffering abuse at the alien's hands for so many years. Knowing that he was being watched made him furious; it increased his determination to see that blue monster brought to justice and Roxanne freed from his selfish and cruel domination. No, he didn't know how long this had been happening, but Mitchell knew _exactly_ how long it would continue.

When he was away from gas station, he turned onto a smaller road that led into a deserted stretch of farm fields currently tall with corn. And when he was out of sight of any other vehicle or building, he hit the brakes and swiftly pulled out his gun, unloading its full clip into the hiding brainbot. It shrieked in electronic agony and tried to lunge for him, but he was firing at point-blank range, and not a shot missed its mark. The thing collapsed back onto the bench seat, now visible, and quite obviously dead. Mitchell took a few more shots at its darkened carcass just to be sure.

With that disgusting thing taken care of, he faced forward again, popped out the spent ammunition cartridge and replaced it with a fresh one. A shame about the damage to the back seat, he reflected — it would certainly reduce the car's value when he got rid of it — but it was a small price to pay in the cause of true love. At least he was now sure that the pistol was in good operating condition, and his aim was still sharp and accurate.

Thus it was that when Wayne took off in search of Mitchell's car, he was already too late. The insane producer had arrived ten minutes earlier, had seen the sign on the street about the park being closed for a wedding as he passed through town, and had found his quarry.

* * *

When Roxanne parted ways with Minion, the only thought on her mind was the need to use the restroom before she drank another drop of anything liquid. She'd had her share of champagne and wine with dinner, but she'd been careful to balance her alcohol intake with water and other liquids, not wanting to get either drunk or dehydrated. Her preventive measures hadn't been quite so kind to her bladder, and she didn't want to run the risk of insulting anyone by failing to acknowledge the toasts with a small sip of something, even plain water because she hadn't bothered to visit the privy.

She also understood the town's desire to hide homely utilitarian buildings behind decorative trees and shrubbery, but at the moment, she wished this effort hadn't placed the washrooms quite so far from the festivities! Now out of sight of the guests and staff, she hiked up her skirts just a bit and ran the last ten yards to restrooms.

The place was empty, clean but dimly lit, relying on light from the frosted window to illuminate the interior, as it was open only as long as the park, which closed at dusk. As she stepped into one of the two stalls, Roxanne blessed Minion for designing a dress that while beautiful and elegant was also eminently practical when it came to moving about and relieving oneself. She recalled a wedding about five years back for which she'd been a bridesmaid; the bride and groom — friends who had since moved out of state — had been into Civil War reenacting, and the bride had insisted on proper period gowns for herself and all her attendants. Roxanne had thought the torture of an old-fashioned corset was bad enough — she'd barely been able to breathe or bend in it — but that and the wide hoop skirt had made movement nearly impossible. Standing up and sitting down on even an ordinary chair had been a struggle, and using public restroom facilities had been an absolute nightmare. Since then, she'd vowed never to get roped into anything so fashionably uncomfortable again.

Happily, Minion hadn't thought of anything so foolish. Yes, there was a bit of light boning in the strapless bodice of this design, but it was highly flexible and used sparingly, just enough for that part of the dress to hold its proper shape and be attractive, not enough to be uncomfortable in any way. The layered tea-length skirt had fullness and sweep to it, but didn't require layers of crinoline or petticoats or a hoop to achieve its shape, and it cooperated quite nicely with such things as sitting, moving through doorways, and backing into a restroom stall. Truly, Minion had done so much to make this dress and this whole day special for her, she promised herself that if there was anything she could ever do that could possibly repay him, she would.

After finishing her business, Roxanne made sure her skirts were properly back in place before leaving the stall, just in case someone else came in while she was washing her hands. She stepped over to the sink, turned on the taps, and was about to put her hands under the water when she noticed a lack of soap on the small counter. There was no obvious fixture or soap dish, and she wondered if perhaps an ordinary pump bottle had been accidentally knocked off by an earlier visitor. She bent a bit to see if she could spot anything of the sort on the floor, first bending to the right, then—

Something hit her on the back of the head, hard enough to make her eyes flare with lights that weren't there, enough to make a veritable tsunami of dizziness and disorientation take hold of her conscious mind and leave her swimming in a sea of quicksand, struggling to see, to hear, to feel _anything_ clearly. She heard a noise — what was it? A car backfiring outside? Something metal hitting metal? Quarreling brainbots? Gunfire?

She didn't have time to figure it out before she was dragged away from the sink, staggering as her head spun and the world threatened to tip out from under her feet. Between the dimness of the room and her blurry vertigo, she couldn't see anything clearly, couldn't even be quite sure what she was feeling. She knew she was being pushed, but by whom or why she didn't know, and fight as she might to make her senses settle down, the dizziness persisted.

Suddenly, she felt something in her mouth, making breathing difficult. She wondered if she might be vomiting, but the sensation was followed by something being tightly wrapped around her jaw, too tightly. She tried to reach up to pull it away, but the movement was feeble for the moment; then something was tugging her hand back, both of them, binding them together behind her.

Now, that was a sensation she knew entirely too well, and this felt nothing at all like the expert kind of restraint she'd experienced for too many years in Megamind's kidnappings. It was clumsy, hurried, awkward, and the moment instinct told her what was happening — that this was no game being played by someone who had promised to never hurt her — adrenaline surged into her system. The dizziness began to settle, the fog to lift, and she flexed her hands and wrists in the way she knew she must while her would-be captor attempted to bind them. What drove away the last of the confusing disorientation was a voice she knew, and now loathed more than any she had ever heard.

"Oh, my darling Roxanne, I'm so glad I was able to find you in time! If you only knew all that I've been through, searching for you, the terrible things that monster's done to keep you from me, to hide you from the truth, from those who truly love you!"

The voice was filled with some sick parody of sympathy as she finally focused her eyes and saw Stewart Mitchell, standing too close as he finished tying her hands behind her back with something strangely clingy. His face was too near her own to see all of it clearly, but when she saw his eyes, she saw more than enough. There was a strange, wild light in them that Roxanne had seen in only two things: truly dangerous madmen about to demonstrate the depths of their insanity by slaughtering innocents, and rabid dogs. A shiver of fear and loathing ran up her spine as she realized that in Mitchell's eyes, she saw both.

Screaming and biting had been denied her, as he'd gagged her so tightly, she couldn't spit the thing out, try as she might. He saw her struggling to rid herself of the thing and mistook it as an attempt to speak. A twisted kind of pity now joined the insanity in his eyes. "I know, my sweet Roxanne, I didn't want to gag you, but I needed to be sure you'd hear me out and not call for that creature who's hurt you so badly, you can't even see it. But I'm going to help you, yes, like I've been helping you all these months! I heard what his sick crony just told you, how he's forcing you to take some name he made up to separate you from decent human society, but his plans to use you as his broodmare to pollute the Earth with more of his kind won't work, oh no! I'm going to save you, Roxanne my pet, you're going to be well again, and we'll be happy together...!"

For one infinite moment, the entire universe stopped, and Roxanne saw with frightening clarity the shattered pieces of Mitchell's mind, glinting and sparkling in their full revelation, like a globe of broken glass in a ray of full sunlight. And the next moment, armed with the realization that the man had well and truly gone mad, she began to struggle in earnest, pushing away from the wall where he'd shoved her, struggling to get both feet solidly under her again.

A disturbing smile twisted his face and he pressed himself against her. "Oh, darling, you do understand, don't you?" he asked eagerly, plainly misinterpreting her efforts to be free of him as some kind of warped desire. He slid his hands up her arms, over her bare shoulders, then down her torso in a far too intimate caress; had there been no gag in her mouth, Roxanne would have vomited on him in utter revulsion at his touch. He leaned his head toward hers, wanting to kiss her face since he had so effectively covered her mouth, and that was the last straw.

Driven by fear and an even more powerful disgust, Roxanne slammed her shoulder into the center of Mitchell's chest, knocking the wind out of him even as she worked to free her hands. She'd learned long ago the escape artist's trick of flexing muscles and joints while being restrained to make getting free easier; it was one of the reasons Megamind had always knocked her out first, since one couldn't take such precautions when unconscious. Mitchell had used duct tape as his "rope" of choice — he'd also employed it to gag her, too tightly. He hadn't done quite so good a job with her wrists, and her own efforts now gave her enough extra room to move and twist and finally yank one hand free.

It took her as long to achieve that as it took for Mitchell to get his breath back. When she brought up both hands — one still half-covered with the clinging tape — to push him away, he countered by slamming her back against the wall. "No, my pet, don't fight me — fight him!" he commanded in an unctuous voice. "He's the one who's been using you, abusing you, forcing himself on you, not I! You don't have to take this any longer!"

He grabbed her necklace and ripped it from her throat, not even noticing how he'd caused her to wince in pain as the metal choked her before snapping; he held it aloft like a token of victory. "You can be free of these chains that creature's shackled you with!" He flung the bit of jewelry aside and ran the same hand through her hair, a possessive caress that ended with him ripping away the flowers pinned there, pulling so hard that her scalp screamed in protest as her hair was yanked at the roots. He threw the flowers down to crush them under one foot, and when he returned his eyes to her face — dark, pupils blown, wild and hungry — Roxanne knew what he planned to do next. His hand reached for her bodice, grabbing the upper edge, pulling, tearing—

—and Roxanne's own hands came up, fingers curled into sharp-nailed claws as she drove them straight into her attacker's eyes, gouging them. Mitchell howled in painful protest, but she didn't relent. She brought up one knee as hard as she could, catching him square in the groin, then used shoulder and elbow to slam into him and send him staggering back. The moment she was free of him, she went right for the door, and when it wouldn't pull open, she found that the noise she'd heard earlier was him throwing the bolt, locking her in.

In the dimness of the room, she had to fumble a bit, first to find the latch, then to unlock it. She'd just released it and was about to pull the door open when he was on her again, grabbing her about the waist from behind. For once in her life, she really, _really_ wished that she could scream, to get the attention of those beyond her sight. "No, Roxanne, don't do this, my darling! Can't you see, he's still using you? I only want what's best for you, for us! Let me take you somewhere safe, where you can get well again in peace, away from that horrible, evil, raping monster...!"

_No, _something inside Roxanne declared in icy rage the moment Mitchell dared to utter the words "raping monster" referring to the genuinely sweet man she'd married, _that's__ the last straw!_

Glad that she'd managed to free her hands and that he'd grabbed her around the waist — though his wandering hands said that he was more interested in groping than simply grabbing — she launched into a counter-attack she vividly remembered from some movie: elbow to the solar plexus, foot smash to the instep, elbow smash to the nose, fist to the groin.

_Thank you, Miss Congeniality, _Roxanne thought with grim satisfaction as Mitchell staggered back, releasing her as he doubled over in pain, too winded by her blows to his gut and face to actually howl. And intelligent woman that she was, she didn't linger to watch the results of her attack. She flung the door open and dashed out, running as fast as she could back toward the park, and safety.

* * *

The discussion of thermodynamics prompted by the heat of the day had ended in a jovial note with the mutual conclusion that yes, the afternoon was entirely too warm and a breeze off the lake would be most welcome for a change. Megamind had just taken off his formal jacket — all the talk about heat had made him realize there was something he could _do_ about it for himself — and was draping it over the back of his chair for the time being when a loud, very bestial bellow drew his attention in the direction Roxanne had gone some minutes ago. He saw her returning, but not as she had gone. Her hair and dress were disheveled, her flowers gone, and she was clawing at her face as she ran, trying to pull away something gray and shiny that was covering too much of it.

Being a former criminal, Megamind recognized a duct tape gag when he saw one, and combined with his bride's harried pace and tousled appearance, he knew that something unpleasant had happened — and that someone more unpleasant had arrived on the scene. He inadvertently called her name and ran at once to help her even before any of the guests realized that something was wrong.

The reporter had just managed to get her fingertips under the tightly wound tape over her mouth as her new husband joined her; she yanked it down in a single, brusquely painful but effective move and spat out the wadded sock her assailant had stuffed into her mouth before taping it shut. "Mitchell," was all she was able to gasp out before Megamind saw the man coming and pushed his wife behind him, offering what protection he could without a weapon or one of his protective costumes.

"Get your filthy hands off her!" the lunatic screamed even as he came half-running, half-staggering toward them, his venom aimed at the blue alien who dared to stand before _his_ woman. "She belongs with her own kind, with me, not with some disgusting, depraved monster!"

"The only disgusting and depraved monster is _you, _Mitchell!" said alien snarled back, his expression dark and dangerous. "I'm warning you: stay away from my wife!"

Mitchell sneered. "Wife? Not for long!" And with that, he pulled his semi-automatic pistol out from under his concealing jacket and started to fire.

One would think this that a loss of sanity might make a person's actions equally erratic, but such was often not the case. Mitchell was a fair marksman under normal circumstances; fueled by madness, he improved. He got off three rounds in quick succession, each slamming directly into Megamind's chest, where he hoped to see what he was certain had to be blue alien blood gush out as the bullets ripped his bestial heart to shreds.

When Megamind only staggered back a step but remained otherwise unharmed, Mitchell took another three shots in anger. It drove the small alien and the woman behind him back another step or two, causing Roxanne to stumble and fall as her legs came up against a chair and tangled with it.

"That's impossible!" Mitchell shrieked, then dimly remembered some rumor from last winter, noting that the city's new defender had apparently acquired the invulnerability of the retired Metro Man. He'd never believed it could be true, but that Megamind was still standing there, the brocade of his vest in shreds but still white and unbloodied, seemed to verify the rumors as true.

Megamind himself was startled by this development, since he knew perfectly well that he was most definitely _not _invulnerable — indeed, he felt the impact of every bullet, but dully, like being hit with a moderately-thrown softball, not a hard, fast-moving steel slug — but he didn't have the time to consider why or how this could be happening right now. The only issue that was worthy of taking up any portion of his massive brain at the moment was protecting Roxanne.

"Give it up, Mitchell!" the ex-villain commanded, wishing he had actually dared to bring his de-gun, glancing about as much as he safely could in hopes of making eye contact with one of the brainbots, all of whom seemed to have vanished. Even Minion and Wayne were nowhere to be seen. "Roxanne's made her choice! It's over!"

Total disgust caused the madman's lips to curl back from his teeth; the look in his eyes was that of a cornered, rabid cur who had nothing to lose. "That's right, it's over!" he laughed, shifting his aim. "Say goodbye to the little woman, Megamind!"

Mitchell pulled the trigger again and fired, aiming not for the blue hero but for Roxanne, having decided that his best course of action would be the old cliche: If he couldn't have her, no one would. If he couldn't persuade Roxanne to leave this alien monster of her own free will, then he would save her from worse than death in spite of herself, permanently.

Fortunately, Roxanne had seen the shot coming and was able to move just enough so that the bullet hit the lawn rather than her head. Megamind dove to grab her and roll her out of harm's way, not caring that he himself might be hurt, but Mitchell kept right on firing, and soon, there would be no place left to go to avoid the bullets—

—until suddenly, a flash of blue crackled through the air, enveloped the mad gunman, and reduced him to a small, glowing blue cube.

The sudden silence that followed was almost deafening. Both newlyweds and guests — the latter of whom had either possessed the good sense to head for the ground and take cover or were dragged there by the Thurmers and Davises the moment Mitchell's gun appeared — remained still for half a minute, then looked up to see what had happened.

And there, coming down the path from the gazebo, was Minion, his brand new de-gun in hand, the just returned Wayne a few paces behind him. The ichthyoid favored the cube that had been Mitchell with a jaundiced eye as he went to pick it up, then turned to his friends still down on the grass with a sort-of "That's that!" kind of smirk.

"Minion!" Megamind exclaimed, torn between exasperation and intensely grateful delight as he clambered to his feet and helped Roxanne to hers. "I thought you said you weren't going to bring _that!" _He pointed to the dark blue de-gun, still active and glowing brightly.

Minion's toothy grin widened. "Well, I changed my mind," he admitted, casually thumbing the weapon to deactivate it. "After all, I wouldn't be much of a partner if I didn't have your back today of all days, sir — now, would I?"

And as the fish whistled for the brainbots, tossing Mitchell's cube for them to play fetch with and tussle over until the police arrived, both couple and guests laughed or clapped or cheered, offering thanks and congratulations to Minion for his timely rescue, but nobody, not one person, uttered so much as a single peep of disagreement.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	26. The Denouement

_Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was a bit slow in coming, but my arm and other joints have been aching something fierce! This is the second to last chapter (with an obvious title, since a denouement is the tying up of loose ends at the end of a complex plot. Shows you how much the ache and allergies are affecting my brain!); there is still the epilogue to come. For those who have asked, the interview with Roxanne and Wayne will either be in a story of its own or incorporated into another. Putting it in this already long novel would've been dragging out the end a bit too long, and it will, I think, deserve more attention of its own. But worry not! I have other ideas for stories I plan to write, and once I give my arm a week's vacation (and just guess where I'm going! XD), I should be back refreshed and ready to go. And I promise, the epilogue chapter will be up before I go. As always, thanks very much to all my lovely and wonderful readers and reviewers!_

* * *

XXVI

The Denouement

"He's lost his mind!" Roxanne was saying as she and Megamind sat inside the temporarily closed café, telling the police all they knew of Stewart Mitchell and his attack while Minion and his brainbot tailoring assistants did damage control to their torn and soiled wedding clothes. The piscine had come along for the interview to offer what information he could, while other police outside were searching for evidence and collecting witness reports from the wedding guests. "I knew that Mitchell was a smarmy manipulator with a history of sexual harassment, but this...!" She shook her head, eliciting a soft, sympathetic burble from Pinky, who was helping to carefully remove the sticky duct tape — which Mitchell had wrapped tightly around Roxanne's entire head, not merely over her mouth — from the bride's hair.

Megamind slipped one hand into hers, consoling her. They were seated together at a table with the recording police officer. The bride was wearing a comfortable robe borrowed from the gift shop connected to the restaurant while the other bots swiftly went about repairing her torn bodice and cleaning the grass stains from the skirt. The groom wore a pair of sweatpants also borrowed from the shop while the stains were washed out of the knees of his slacks. His vest was a total loss, the beautiful silk brocade in shreds, but the lining completely intact — thanks to Minion's foresight.

Fearing that Mitchell or some other rabid anti-alien might try something violent to stop the wedding, the designing ichthyoid had lined both his boss's vest and Roxanne's dress bodice with the newest, finest variety of the impact-dispersing polymer cloth Megamind had developed years ago for his own protection against a super-powered adversary, derived from the alien technology found in his escape pod and Minion's first habitat. While this version didn't have quite the resistance to sharp objects like blades as the stuff he wore in actual combat, it was very thin and flexible, with the supple hand and appearance of a medium-weight silk. It went rigid when struck and could shield the wearer from a considerable amount of impact damage by soaking it up and dispersing it across the surface of the fabric, like certain high-tech kinds of bulletproof vests, only more advanced and capable.

It had originally been tested using an Uzi (and later with Wayne's superpowers) and had come through with flying colors, so Minion had felt it would more than adequately provide that little bit of extra protection he'd wanted for his friends. Fortunately, they had made a fair amount of the stuff a few months back, most in black but some in white. Much of the white had been dyed and printed in the appropriate blue and black design for use in lining Megamind's capes, but some had been kept in the original undyed state, in case some other need came up. Something had told Minion that this would be an excellent use of it, and he was glad that he'd decided to follow his instincts.

So were both of the newlyweds, who were understandably still shaking from the horrifying turn of events. For a while after they'd come indoors, after they'd surrendered their damaged clothing to Minion and his helpers but before the police had come to talk with them, they could only cling to one another, allowing the shock of what had happened to run its course, to take solace in each other and the fact that though shaken and slightly battered, they were alive and for the most part unharmed. Megamind had taken Roxanne's hand just now for his own comfort and reassurance as well as for hers, all that they could comfortably do while trying to give statements to the police.

"I hadn't really understood quite how out of touch with reality he actually was," the blue hero admitted. "I haven't seen that much of him, face to face. But I knew it as soon as he showed up, chasing after you. One of the peculiar benefits of having grown up and spent so much time in a prison, you get a chance to see the faces of the criminally insane up close and personal, from time to time. Mitchell certainly qualifies for that, which made the whole situation that much more difficult. Heroes can't go around beating the crap out of mentally disturbed people with impunity, and with a gun in the picture..."

Roxanne shuddered. "You would've sacrificed yourself for me. Oh, God, Mykaal, if you'd been hit, if he'd aimed for your head first...!"

The blue fingers squeezed her hand tightly, his green eyes catching and holding hers in an effort to both console and be consoled. "Don't even think about it. He didn't — and I wasn't hurt, thanks to Minion. Protecting people may be my job now, but protecting _you_ is my _life. _I would've taken all those bullets for you, gladly, but just a few hours ago, I promised I'd protect you for the rest of your life — and remember, I can't keep doing that if I get myself killed." It was an odd way of saying that he would be as careful as he could be when it came to keeping that promise, to keeping himself alive, and Roxanne gratefully accepted it.

"It was probably a very prudent thing to do, not attacking him," one of the two officers admitted. "I know you've been keeping your nose clean ever since you gave up your old... career, Mr. Megamind, but if this Mitchell character does prove to be insane, there are certain factions that'd have a field day with it if you'd beat him up, even in self-defense. They'd try to twist it into you being the aggressor and him the misunderstood victim suffering from a mental disorder. I've seen stranger things happen. Since you didn't lay a finger on him and Mr. Minion's shot merely incapacitated him and saved all the innocent bystanders from possible harm, the bigots can't complain, and your reputation as a hero will stay untarnished."

Megamind smiled crookedly. "Perhaps, but the real hero today is Minion, not me." His gaze shifted to where his oldest friend and _definitely _his partner in heroism sat with Little Nipper, expertly repairing the damage Mitchell had done to Roxanne's dress while Splice was taking care of the various grass stains — quite delicately, for a usually tough-looking brainbot. "If you were getting a salary from me, Minion, after today I'd have to triple it. Quintuple it! Whatever you want!"

"Hear, hear!" Roxanne seconded. "I was thinking that I had to find a way to thank you for all you've done just before Mitchell jumped me, and now, I don't think there's any way I possibly can that wouldn't feel inadequate!"

Even while his robotic hands continued their quick, precise work with the damaged gown, the fish flittered all his fins in a way that was easily understandable as a proud blush. "That isn't necessary, Mrs. Roxanne, really," he said, mindful of the presence of strangers who might misinterpret greater familiarity of address. "I was sent with Sir to protect him, and now that you're married, that includes protecting _you_. I was worried about people trying to hurt both of you, and though I couldn't shield you from things like insults, I _could _do something to protect both of you physically. I'm glad I did — though I really wish you hadn't discovered what I'd done like _this_. I'm afraid you may have some bruises on your chest, sir."

Megamind waved away the concern with his free hand. "At least I still _have _a chest, thanks to you. And since you were thoughtful enough to bring some of my healing accelerator salve in your emergency kit, it won't be bad at all."

Wayne, who had been outside helping the police check for any important evidence and explaining the situation to the understandably rattled wedding guests, leaned in after knocking on the door. "They've found Mitchell's car," he reported, his demeanor peculiarly sad. "And they've found something... Well, you might want to come have a look, Megs." With a motion of his head, he indicated that his former rival should join him in the hallway.

Megamind gave Roxanne a questioning look, to which she answered with a nod. "I'll be okay," she promised. "The whole thing was quite a shock, but it's over, and we're all safe. That's what's most important."

Convinced that his bride was all right with it, he followed Wayne, gently closing the door behind him. As the musician led him to another small back room, he spoke softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop him, Megs," he said, and there was no doubting his regret was genuine. "Minion and I thought he still had to be out on the road because the other brainbots hadn't gotten a signal from Sneaker. I heard the first shot and came back as fast as I dared, and I swear, if Minion hadn't stopped Mitchell when he did, I would've jumped in, secrets be damned. I wouldn't've let either you or Roxie get hurt when I could do something to stop it, I don't care how many people might see."

Megamind's smile was wan, but also earnest. "Thank you, Wayne, it actually means a lot to me, that you'd risk blowing your cover too soon to protect us. But I'm glad it wasn't necessary."

Wayne's answering smile was lopsided. "Yeah, I am, too. It's gonna be awkward telling everyone the truth, even doing it the way I planned, and this way, Minion gets some positive recognition he really deserves. He's one heck of a smart guy, for a fish."

"Even not for a fish," the ex-villain concurred. "It is odd, though, that Snooper didn't pick up a signal from Sneaker once Mitchell got within range."

Now, the former Metro Man sighed. "Not so odd," he said sadly. He opened the door to a tiny office, where the police detectives had been collecting any physical evidence they'd gathered. On the small desk lay the very damaged body of poor Sneaker, obviously the victim of the same gun that had been used in trying to kill both Megamind and Roxanne.

"The police found him in the back of Mitchell's car," Wayne explained while Megamind began to examine the dead brainbot after pausing for a moment to simply stare at the poor thing. Sneaker's dome was shattered, his eyestalk severed, his metal body pierced and twisted by the force of the bullets that had been pumped into him at close range. None of his various lights that should have been active were alive; had a brainbot possessed blood, he would have been drained dry of it.

The retired hero continued. "One of the police who knows guns says the holes match the caliber of Mitchell's pistol, and they found at least three bullets lodged in the back of the seat and two in Sneaker's body. They didn't want to poke around inside him too much, since they didn't know if they might electrocute themselves, hitting some power source they didn't know about." He settled one big hand on his ex-rival's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Megs, I know these little guys are like family to you. And Sneaker was a good, clever bot. Mitchell should've just run him off, not... this."

"He's insane," Megamind said softly, running one hand along the more damaged side of the metal body, then along the other. "Insane people never consider the value of any life but their own. Even I was never that full of myself."

Wayne nodded. "That's true. Y'know, if I'd known just how _alive _these little bots could be, how much real personality they have, I don't think I could've ever even tried to hurt any of 'em. As it was, it always felt kinda like kicking puppies or kittens when I had to get rough with them."

"They knew it was all a risk of the Game." The blue hero spoke distractedly as he used both hands to carefully examine the insides of the broken dome. His brow furrowed as his eyes and fingers gave him information about Sneaker's condition. Finally, eyes narrowing, he reached one hand deep into the damaged cavity, pressing down on a specific area his fingertips had located. Wayne could hear something click and pop. When Megamind withdrew his hand a moment later, he was holding a softly glowing cube about four times the size of the dehydrated Mitchell.

He sighed. "Thankfully, Sneaker's not dead, just sort of comatose. All but the very oldest of the brainbots — and they never leave the Lair, these days — were designed to shut down into a state of total hibernation if their systems exceed a certain minimum level of functionality. It can't save them if they're literally exploded into a million bits or completely melted or crushed as flat as a pancake, but in all other situations the reflex will preserve their core integrity; it even has a very tiny power source of its own that can maintain integrity for almost a full year, in optimum conditions, and will keep the cellular components alive and healthy."

Wayne's blue eyes widened. "So what makes Sneaker Sneaker is in that cube? And you can do a brain transplant into a new body to bring him back?"

Megamind's upper lip twitched. "I don't think I'd put it quite that way; some people would get the wrong idea and start worrying about me snatching dead bodies for ridiculous experiments. But essentially, yes, that would do it."

He swept the hideously damaged robot shell with a critical glance, sighing once more, sadly. "This body is obviously beyond easy repair. And in the future, I think I'm going to look into manufacturing the sort of clear solid polymer that Minion's original habitat was made of to use for the brainbot domes, especially for the bots that go into highly hazardous situations. Lexan is cheap and easily available, but not durable enough."

His former nemesis was genuinely relieved; he grinned. "I'm sure you'll work out the details. I'm just glad to hear that the little guy isn't permanently out of action. He and Snooper did a lot of good work, keeping track of that lunatic, keeping us informed, and keeping him out of the picture for you and Roxie as long as they could."

"They did," the ex-villain agreed as he did a final check to make sure no other potentially troublesome subsystems of the robot body were still active. "Sneaker'll get the best new body I can give him, don't worry. And by the way, Roxanne _really _doesn't care for that nickname. Don't you know that?"

Wayne coughed. "Ah... yeah, I know. But a long time back, when I started to notice that you had serious feelings for her, I decided it was easier to put up with her _occasionally_ getting annoyed with me calling her Roxie than it was seeing the way you'd start to boil _every_ time I called her Roxanne in front of you. I was afraid you'd pop a vein or your head would explode — or you might forget yourself and do something dangerous that might accidentally hurt her, or Minion, or you. Jealousy can be unpredictable, that way."

Megamind was taken aback by his admission. "Was I really that transparent?" he asked, not sure which answer he dreaded more.

His former foe understood. "Yeah, you were, but probably only to me. Roxanne never seemed to notice, and if Minion did, he kept it to himself. Nobody else was ever around you and her enough to see, not unless you had a habit of talking in your sleep or going to bars and crying your heart out to the bartender."

Now, the blue alien snorted. "Hardly."

Wayne chuckled. "Didn't think so. Don't worry about it, I won't tell anyone. And if she really wants it that way, I'll try to remember that she prefers Roxanne. It may take a while, though, since _not_ using it has gotten to be a habit."

With the essential part of Sneaker that was truly Sneaker now rescued from the ruin of his robot body, Megamind returned to the room where Roxanne was waiting, Wayne in his wake. The two police there had been joined by three others, who'd finished up questioning the guests and combing the area for vital information and evidence. One, the chief, was holding Mitchell's still dehydrated cube, which had been retrieved from the brainbots.

"They didn't want to give it up," the big man said with an amused shake of his head, "but one of your guests whistled for 'em and started waving around a big silver platter. When he had their attention, he threw it like a frisbee out over the lake, and they went right after it. They caught it before it could hit the water, too. I've heard about how this dehydration thing of yours works, but obviously, we've never had to deal with someone in this state before. Is there anything we should know before we rehydrate the guy?"

"Yeah: don't do it," Roxanne grumbled darkly, dead serious. The duct tape had been removed from her hair without removing too much of the hair itself, and she and Pinky had restored it to a properly acceptable style, with fresh flowers covering the worst of the damage. One of the police had also located her necklace in examining the restroom. Though they wanted to keep the broken chain for now as evidence, the pendant had been given a new one from the gift shop and was once again at her throat. "Ever."

Wayne and the other officers laughed softly, understanding her feelings; her husband bent to kiss her cheek. "Now, now, my love, I'm supposed to be the incorrigibly evil member of the family!" he chided, gently teasing. "I'm sure they need to have him reconstituted to question him and read him his rights. But actually, if you want just a tiny bit of payback, you can be the one to throw him out into the lake."

"The lake?" the police chief repeated, echoing the question in other minds.

"The lake," Megamind confirmed. "One can't always predict how a person will emerge from dehydration. I've been through it often enough that I know how to control things so that when I'm rehydrated, I can immediately take whatever action I had planned before I was dehydrated. That's how I finally managed to save Roxanne and the city from that idiot Hal. Sometimes, the person comes out in a daze — poor Minion can attest to that! And other times, if they were _really_ fixated on whatever they were doing when they were dehydrated, they continue doing it when they're restored. Given Mitchell's state of mind, I suspect he'll come out still shooting, and I don't know for sure how many shots he has left in his cartridge. Toss him out into the lake and if he's still firing, the shots will go harmlessly into the water, if the gun doesn't get waterlogged first and can't fire at all."

The police and Wayne accepted this as a wise course of action; Roxanne smiled, evilly. "Oh, please," she fairly begged, as if this was the greatest gift she could ever wish to have come true, _"please _let me do it!"

And the police had no problem with that at all.

* * *

She waited, of course, until Minion and his brainbot assistants were finished cleaning and repairing her dress and Megamind's slacks. The ichthyoid was sorry that his partner's vest hadn't been salvageable, but it had served its greater hidden purpose, and that was what mattered most. The other bots, especially Snooper, had been saddened to discover what had happened to poor Sneaker, but when Daddy showed them that his core was safe and sound and promised that he would be made good as new as soon as possible — something that couldn't be put off for too long, as Sneaker had what might prove to be some very vital recordings of Mitchell's illegal actions — they were all reassured.

When the newlyweds and the hero of the hour returned to the site of the reception — once more in presentable condition and with an entourage of police, Wayne, and the brainbots following — their guests and the service staff cheered and applauded as they purposefully strode across the park, up to the shore, and out to the end of a currently empty pier. Roxanne had brought along a long, narrow scarf from the restaurant's lost and found box to use as a sling, and with great gusto and considerable accuracy, she whirled Mitchell's cube about to gain the desired momentum, then lobbed it out into the deeper waters of the bay, away from any boats or marina activity.

It made a beautiful, long arc against the blue summer sky, and hit the water well over two hundred feet from the pier. Some in the watching crowd applauded like viewers at a track and field competition. The cube sank below the surface as it took the typical three seconds to react with the water, then the surface frothed, two muffled bangs were heard, and finally, Mitchell's head surged up, spluttering, coughing, and shrieking.

"Good throw," Megamind complimented Roxanne as she glared at her flailing attacker. "Would've been even better with a real sling, I'm sure, and if cubes were more aerodynamic. Maybe I'll look into a spherical variation when we get back home."

Mitchell's shrieks, which started as foul cursing, suddenly turned to panicked wails of, "Help, help, I can't swim! Oh, god, I'm going to die!"

Both newlyweds snorted. "Figures," the bride observed acerbically.

"We should only be so lucky," the groom agreed, _sotto voce, _as he whistled for the brainbots. He let Mitchell continue to flail about for a bit, and when he decided the man had sufficiently worn himself out, he signaled for the bots to fetch him. "Don't forget the gun!" he added as they streaked off.

Splice and two of the camera bots hauled the sodden and screaming madman from the lake while Snooper — who was built to be completely waterproof, since one could never predict the conditions a stealthbot might find itself needing to face — dove under the surface and emerged in short order with the dripping weapon. At Megamind's gesture, Snooper delivered the pistol directly into the hands of the police also waiting on the pier. The other brainbots unceremoniously dumped their soggy burden at Roxanne's feet, dropping him from a bit higher than they perhaps should have, in minor payment for what he'd done to Sneaker.

The police stayed back while Mitchell, now unarmed, coughed and spluttered and made quite a show of what had been a comparatively brief dunking. Roxanne continued to look down at him, mouth set in a firm line, eyes narrow and sharp like scalpels waiting to dissect him, wanting to hear what feeble explanation for his actions he might concoct. Megamind made no move to come between them, though he did drape one arm around his wife's shoulders, offering his support.

Mitchell, on hands and knees, finally choked out a last cough, then looked up at Roxanne, face glowing. "Oh, Roxanne, my darling, you saved my life! You do love me—!" He reared up and lunged for her, intending to wrap his sodden arms around her legs.

But her foot came up faster, pressing against his face, toe firmly planted between his eyes. "That's far enough," she snapped, the tone of command unmistakable. "For one thing, Mitchell, I am _not _your darling or your sweet or _anything_ yours. I never have been, I never will be, and if you didn't get the hint when I reported you for sexual harassment last month, I'll spell it out for you right now. I didn't save you; if I'd had my way, I would've tied lead weights to your ankles and let you sink right to the bottom. If you have two brain cells still working in that thick skull of yours, get this into them: I love Megamind, I married him of my own free will, he has _never _hurt me, blackmailed me, brainwashed me, or abused me, and if you think for one second I'd give him up for a piece of rotting slime like you whose idea of 'true love' is clubbing a woman, gagging and assaulting her and then trying to kill her and her husband _on their wedding day, _you don't belong in jail, you belong in an insane asylum!"

"Actually," Megamind provided helpfully, smiling in a deceptively sweet and innocent way, "they call them the mental health wards of correctional facilities, but you're right, that does come first; serving the prison time comes second."

Mitchell heard the blue hero's voice and only then registered his presence. The light of madness flared again in his eyes; he snarled out, "You!" and tried to go after Megamind with his bare hands, but Roxanne was prepared, and quicker. She pulled back her foot just enough to snap it back and give him a good solid kick in the face.

The schizophrenic sleazebag sprawled back, half over the edge of the pier. Feeling himself in that precarious position, he flailed about frantically, arms pinwheeling, and wound up tumbling completely over, right back into the water, once again screaming bloody murder about his inability to swim in water that was only shoulder deep.

This time, the police came forward to handle the rescue, the chief grinning as he gave the bride a thumbs-up and said, "We'll take it from here. That guy really _is _nuts!"

Megamind gave the chief a gracious nod, relinquishing the matter to their capable hands, and headed back to shore with Roxanne, his arm still around her shoulders. "Understated, but magnificent," he told her softly, kissing her cheek in appreciation. "If I equip you with your own de-gun and protective gear, I don't think I'll ever have to worry again about you not being able to take care of yourself."

She turned her head to give him a soft kiss on the lips, smiling impishly. "Can I have one in black and silver? And maybe just a smidge smaller, so I can carry it in my purse without it weighing a ton."

He made a show of considering it, grinning. "Hmmm, I might have to cut out a few of the lesser functions for that, but it should be doable. Give me a week or two after we get home."

"You've got it," she said, and stopped their return to kiss him more properly. There came a chorus of approval along with the clinking of glassware from their guests, and they were more than happy to go along with the old tradition and keep right on kissing until the clinking dissolved into laughter and cheers.

* * *

With Mitchell finally taken off into custody, the celebrants could rest easy in the certainty that he would not be troubling them again. Indeed, given that he had not only engaged in sexual harassment, but had also been actively stalking Roxanne, had acquired a fistful of traffic violations in two states over a matter of days, had attempted the abduction of and had forcibly attacked his target, had carried a concealed weapon in a state where such was illegal — an unregistered weapon to boot — _and _had attempted premeditated murder with said weapon in the sight of nearly three dozen witnesses, the likelihood was strong that even if he was declared legally insane, he wouldn't be seeing the outside of prison walls until he was an old man.

While the guests and the wedding party discussed all that had happened — a necessary way of releasing the last of the tension — the hired staff had cleared away the dining utensils, had rearranged the tables and chairs so that a party with music and dance could be held, and had brought out the cake and champagne to finish the last of the traditions. The buzz of police activity and the noise of gunfire and screaming had drawn the attention of many locals and vacationers in the area, and after briefly talking it over, the newlyweds decided to let them come and participate in the celebration, if they wanted. More snacks and beverages were brought out along with extra chairs, and when all had been set up, Wayne signaled the person in charge of the music to ask for quiet and everyone's attention. When the now larger crowd complied, the retired hero gestured to Minion.

The ichthyoid took the cordless microphone he was offered and cleared his throat. "Even though I'm not exactly accustomed to public speaking, everything I've read says that this is the job of the Best Man, and though I'm actually a fish, I'm still a male, so I guess that I still qualify." He grinned at the chuckles and nods he was given. "And it _is_ appropriate. I've known Mykaal ever since he was eight days old and his parents sent me with him to Earth to save his life — oh, sir, I'm sorry!" Minion exclaimed, clapping one hand over the relative position of his mouth. "I've never called you by your real name in public before!"

Megamind smiled back, unconcerned. "That's all right, Minion. Everyone who was at the ceremony's already heard it, and since Roxanne's planning to use Thejhan as her last name outside of work, it wasn't going to stay secret much longer."

Minion gave him an _Are you sure? _look, and when the blue hero nodded, _Yes, I'm sure,_ he heaved a sigh of relief and continued. "Anyway, as I was saying, I've known Sir for almost his entire life, and I've known Ms Roxanne ever since the night they first met — and it _wasn't _part of a kidnapping! I know that it's kind of a tradition for the Best Man to tell some embarrassing story about how the bride and groom got together before giving the toast, but while I know a lot of stories about them that _could_ be embarrassing, I just can't bring myself to tell any of them."

Though he had started out a bit nervous — this was a part of all the traditions surrounding weddings in this country that Minion had dreaded, since he didn't want to make some egregious mistake and thus be personally responsible for spoiling any part of the day — he saw the warmly smiling faces of his friends and all the others who were listening, and found himself relaxing. "You see, most people think that the first time these two met was when Megamind first kidnapped Ms Roxanne, but the truth is, they met months before, when he accidentally found her as an innocent bystander about to get killed by a gang of genuinely evil thugs and stepped in to save her life."

He chuckled softly at the sounds of surprise that murmured from his audience. "Maybe that _is _an embarrassing story, because rescuing complete strangers wasn't the kind of thing a supervillain should be known for doing, and these days, people would _never_ think that Roxanne Ritchi would have _ever_ gotten into such terrible trouble on her own _before_ the whole kidnapping thing started! But that's how it happened, and that's what I'm always going to remember. The person who's been my best friend all my life was never the evil villain he pretended to be because he thought it was his destiny, and Ms Roxanne isn't always the tough, self-sufficient, hard-as-nails, no-nonsense reporter that a lot of people think she _must_ be. They're both exceptional people, and they've both had to play the cards they were dealt in life.

"They weren't easy hands to play for either of them — but somehow, I think they found the way to make the most of what they were given. In spite of all the odds against it, they found each other. And if anything about their lives was meant to be, was destiny, I truly believe that this was it. Mykaal didn't need to be bad, and Roxanne didn't need to be tough. They didn't need a complete do-over, didn't need to be dealt a whole new hand. What they really needed was each other."

Minion reached down to pick up the glass that he'd set down before starting, fearing that he might spill it in his nervousness, even though it was less than half full. "So, if it's not out of place for a fish to do this, I ask everyone here to raise their glass and drink to my two best friends, who today made the decision to openly and formally commit themselves to one another."

He lifted the glass, which sparkled like a diamond partly filled with liquid gold as it caught a ray of the evening sun. He was only peripherally aware of all the other guests — even those curious folk who had been invited to join the party a short time ago — doing the same, as his attention was focused on the couple he honored, smiling. "To Mykaal and Roxanne, the two best friends anyone could ever hope to have. May your troubles be few, your blessings many, your years together long and full, and may you know nothing but happiness from this day on."

Answering words of agreement, echoed all through the little park as smiles and good wishes were offered, glasses were raised, the customary sips taken. Minion had set up the little drinking tube in the seam of his habitat's opening beforehand so that he could also imbibe a bit of the small amount of champagne in his glass at the proper moment (if in a somewhat peculiar-looking fashion, as he looked to be drinking out of his cybersuit's "forehead").

"That was beautiful, Minion," Roxanne said with genuine affection for her new ersatz brother-in-law. "Thank you."

Megamind seconded the sentiment. "Unaccustomed as you are to public speaking, you certainly seemed quite comfortable with it," he added, truly touched despite his joking manner.

With the tradition now fulfilled, Wayne cleared his throat, lightly. "I know it's not so much of a custom for the Maid of Honor to do this—" He said it with a crooked grin and a wink that made people laugh. "—but I just wanted everyone to know that I couldn't be happier for these two if I tried. I know that all these years, just about the whole world thought that Roxanne and I were a couple, but the truth is that... well, that it was never true. I've always liked Roxie, and we've been good friends — and I hope we always will be — but she was like my kid sister. The real chemistry has always been between her and Megs — Mykaal," he corrected, winning himself a wide, green eyed look of astonishment when he finally said the name correctly.

He smiled back. "I know I don't have to tell you that you've gotten yourself a wonderful girl, little buddy — I'm sure you know just how wonderful she is even better than I do. I know you'll take good care of her, and I hope you'll be smart enough to let her take good care of you. Even superheroes need that, and I envy you for having what I never did. Being looked up to by a whole city is nice, but being loved by one special person the way I know Roxanne loves you — that's a miracle, and I'm not saying that just because we used to be enemies! Whenever two people who were really meant for each other manage to overcome all the mistakes they made and the misconceptions they had about each other — when they can get past all the hate and gossip of the world to see the truth and not only accept it but embrace it, and each other, that's a miracle."

The retired hero sighed and grinned at the same time. "I know, I'm getting seriously sappy, here, but this is what I've seen, what I believe. Love _is_ a miracle, and I hope you always remember that, even when things get rough, no matter what other people might say or think. It's the greatest superpower in the universe, and if you have it, there's nothing and no one you can't stand up against and win. So here's to _my _two best friends: may you always love each other even more than you do today, and may you always have the love of your friends and your family to give a little extra help when you need it. I know you'll always have mine."

"And mine!" Minion agreed, lifting up his glass as Wayne did. The gesture and the words were echoed by a surprising number of others, and left the newlyweds misty-eyed and speechless.

After that, the little traditions left for the day were simple ones, like cutting the cake and dancing and taking pictures and talking and laughing and sharing the joys and pleasures of the occasion with all who had come to wish them well. Some of the police officers who had helped to deal with Mitchell returned, now off-duty, to join the celebration and offer their best wishes to the unusual couple. All in all, the rest of the day went splendidly, and when sunset was approaching in all its glory across the wide bay, many gathered on the pier and along the shore to appreciate it. Minion and Wayne joined Megamind and Roxanne where they were standing together near the end of the pier, away from the noise of the party.

Both bride and groom smiled warmly at their two uniquely alien friends as they approached. "It's been a wonderful day, in spite of everything," Roxanne told them as they hesitated to come closer, just in case the couple wanted their privacy.

"Yes, and thanks to both of you," Megamind agreed, to Wayne's mixed delight and surprise. "You saved the day, Minion, and Wayne, I have to admit that some of the unkind things I thought about you and the 'surprises' you kept warning us about were completely unjust. Having friends and family here made a difference to both of us, and we wanted you to know that we appreciate everything you did to arrange for it."

Roxanne nodded most emphatically. "Are they driving back to Green Bay tonight?"

The former Metro Man shook his head. "I made arrangements for all of them in a couple of places around town, they'll be staying until Monday. They all know where to go after the party and how to get there. I also called in a favor with an old friend from my college days who owns a rental condo here, and that's where Minion and I will be spending the next few days while I show him around and you two get settled into this new husband and wife gig. When you're ready to leave tonight, Tyler will drive you back to the house."

"Is there any way we'll ever be able to thank the two of you for everything you've done today?" Roxanne wondered.

"No," Wayne answered blithely, until Minion elbowed him. "Just kidding! I mean, what're friends for, right? I expect that if someday, I manage to meet someone as great as you, Roxie — Roxanne," he quickly corrected, "you'll return the favor. Right?"

"And you've already thanked me enough," Minion added before they could try to answer the rhetorical question. "You agreed to come on this trip when I was worried that you might get sick or even split up from all the pressure you'd both been under. All I ever wanted was to see the two of you happy and healthy again — and look how things turned out!"

He grinned so widely, it was easy to count all the teeth in his fishy little body. "You gave me everything I could've hoped for, and more! This morning you said I'm your partner now, sir, and after today, I really feel like I am. And I have new family now, too! So don't worry about _thanking_ me, either of you, ever. You've made me the happiest fish in the universe!" He did a little flip and roll inside his habitat to show it.

Megamind's smile was lopsided as he lightly punched his friend's shoulder. "Maybe we need to go thank Stewart Mitchell, then."

Roxanne gave him a look that would've frozen molten lava. "Don't even _think _of it!" she warned, but a moment later, she laughed with the rest of them. It was easier to do, now, knowing that Mitchell was behind bars, and she had the protection of three friends who were the smartest, strongest, and most determined people on the planet.

As the four — three aliens and one very special Earthling — watched the lovely sunset across the rippling waters, they decided that all in all, it had been a wonderfully satisfying, beautiful, _almost _perfect day — and in the true fairy tale that was life, one couldn't ask for a happier ending.

* * *

When Wayne and Judge Crenshaw had made the arrangements with the village to use the lakeside park to hold the wedding reception, they had agreed to have the party end by eleven, so as not to disturb the townsfolk too late into the night. Not that it would have mattered much, since as the evening went on, more people wandered by to see what was happening, and pretty much everyone who lived or was staying in the immediate area was welcomed to join the celebration. Still, it had been a long day with some very unexpected and stressful events, so just after ten, the bride and groom decided to call it night.

There were, of course, many congratulations offered after this was announced, goodbyes said, hugs and kisses given and received, and not a few tears of a happy kind shed. Wayne and Minion promised to collect up any stray gifts and things and bring them over to the summer house in a day or two, whenever their friends called and said they were ready to have company again. Minion had made sure that a piece of the cake was saved for them, neatly wrapped up in a little white box, and he assured them that he would keep an eye on the brainbots as well, since he rightly presumed that they would not be the best "guests" to have around during a honeymoon, however brief it might be.

The final tradition to be observed before the newlyweds departed was, of course, the throwing of the bride's bouquet. Given that most of the female guests who'd been invited were already married, Roxanne had decided to skip the idea of asking only the single females to step forward. Instead, before allowing herself to be graciously helped into the limo, she had simply turned her back to the crowd of well-wishers and tossed it. The laughter of the guests and Megamind told her even before she looked that something odd had happened.

She was expecting to see that Pinky had nabbed the flowers in mid-air, having becoming inordinately attached to them throughout the day. Instead, she saw a beet-red Wayne standing there, holding the bouquet as if it was something even more alien than the talking, snickering robot-bodied fish behind him.

"That's what you get for wearing a skirt, Wayne!" his ex-rival declared, chortling and pointing toward him in a dramatic gesture that pinned him as the obvious and only choice for this embarrassing whimsey of Fate.

Roxanne shrugged an apology to the musician and tried her best not to giggle too much at his expense as she climbed into the limo. Once the doors were closed and they were on their way, however, she let loose the peals of laughter she couldn't resist. She was only human, after all, and the sight of the big lug standing there in his kilt, holding her bridal bouquet was too priceless to resist. She hoped that Blinkie or one of the other camera bots captured it for posterity; through his own laughter, Megamind assured her that they would, if for no other reason than Blinkie's recently developed fondness for the retired hero.

* * *

The drive to the house was brief, and they asked the chauffeur to drop them off at the entrance to the driveway so that they could enjoy the short, quiet walk back to the house. After thanking Tyler for his fine work that day — for which he refused any compensation, saying that he'd have considered the time well spent, even if Mr. Scott hadn't already handled such mundane matters — and accepting his congratulations and good wishes, they turned toward the house, walking slowly to enjoy the soft sounds of the night after those from the limo had dwindled and disappeared.

"It's been a beautiful day," Roxanne sighed in contentment as they walked up the stone-paved driveway together, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist.

Megamind gave a soft, amused snort. "Even the part with Mitchell?"

"Well, I wouldn't call _that_ beautiful," she conceded. "But it was... unexpected. I would've rather he'd just kept his nose out of our lives, but if he was going to go insane like that, it was better that it happened where and when it did. He knew the address of this house, after all, and he could've decided to lie in wait for us to come back and be shooting at us out in the dark, right now. If he'd aimed for our heads..."

The arm around her shoulder tightened. "He didn't, not soon enough. Roxanne, I know it must sound strange coming from me, but you can't let yourself dwell on things like that, at least not for long."

He stopped, and turned her to face him. "You have to let it go. I know, hearing _me _say that is absolutely ridiculous! I'm about as obsessive as one can get when it comes to details, and I know how to overthink things in ways that ordinary humans can't even begin to imagine. But I've been finding out some very important things about that over the last two years — even today. I've been realizing that if I let myself keep dwelling on things that didn't happen, I couldn't do my job, I couldn't even function. I'd be too afraid to step outside the door or crawl out of bed in the morning. Did you hear what I said to that imbecile Hal about losing, before I managed to get into the Invisible Car and get my hands on the defuser gun?"

She had to think hard for a moment, since she hadn't been terribly close to them at that point in their battle. "That when you lose, you get to learn from your mistakes?"

"Yes. And the mistake we made today was not taking Mitchell's threat quite as seriously as perhaps we should've. Normal, sane people don't do some of the things we've seen him doing this past week or so, thanks to Sneaker and Snooper. And when you're dealing with a madman, you have to be twice as careful, and more. We let ourselves forget that. Thank God Minion didn't! And now, we have to learn from it, so we don't make that same mistake again."

"And learning from it doesn't mean thinking about all the possible awful scenarios until one of them scares you to death. You're right, I get it." She took a deep breath, then released it in a rush. "But can I at least feel a _little_ bit unnerved by what happened? Not about lunatics with guns jumping out at us from every shadow, but about seeing my brand new husband take six bullets right in the chest when we hadn't even been married for three hours! I'd feel insane if that _didn't _bother me!"

His smile was crooked, but affectionate. "I suppose you have the right to feel that way. I have to admit, when Mitchell hauled out that gun and aimed it at me, I suddenly pictured myself lying there on the ground, feeling furious because I not only couldn't protect you, but because I'd bled all over the nice white clothes Minion went through so much trouble to make for me, and ruined them!"

Roxanne stared at him for what felt like an impossibly long moment; then abruptly, she burst out laughing. She couldn't stop it, and she didn't want to. It was cathartic, and though Megamind smiled to hear it, he didn't try to stop her, either.

Finally, her laughter dwindled to chuckles, and she wiped away her semi-mirthful tears with the back of one hand. "I know, I know," she gasped out when she had breath enough to speak. "It wasn't _that _funny, but it _was_ pretty silly, and I needed the laugh. Thanks, sweetie." Still a bit breathless, she draped her arms over his shoulders, sweeping up the collar of his jacket to create a small, intimate space in which she could kiss him most thoroughly, and he could quite happily return it, his own arms circling her waist to draw her even closer.

To a bystander, several minutes ticked by before they parted only enough to resume the short walk to the front door; to them, lost in each other, it was both a fraction of a second and a blissful eternity. Still together, they continued on, and Megamind chuckled. "If you'd like to hear something else that sounds kinda ridiculous, here it is: I'm actually _glad _that Mitchell was a good shot."

Roxanne's eyes widened, disbelieving. "In heaven's name, _why?"_

The green eyes sparkled even in the scant light. "Because people who know what they're doing with a gun usually hit what they're aiming for. Amateurs just sort of use it like a hose, spray the shots in a general direction and hope they hit _something. _Sometimes, going up against a pro can be easier — more predictable," he added, grinning mischievously. "Mitchell wanted to blast my heart out, I could see it in the way he lined up his shots at me, and he was stopped by Minion's smart thinking. I didn't know I had that protection at first, of course, I was fixated on saving you, but once I got the picture, I wasn't worried until he started to aim for _you. _He was going for the head, and even for me in full battle gear, that's still my most vulnerable spot. On you, unprotected...!"

He shook his head and shuddered. "Seeing that freaked me out as much as me getting shot in the chest bothered you!"

She understood his feelings completely, and snuggled a little closer to his side in a gesture of comfort. "I guess we both need to put it behind us as something awful that _didn't _happen. It's our wedding night, after all. We only get one, and I don't want it spoiled by what some crazy stalker did and didn't do."

She raised the hand that wasn't around his waist to touch the part of his chest that had been hit by the much reduced force of the bullets. "Are you sure you weren't hurt too badly? I know what I've heard police say about the bruises they get even through bulletproof vests, and they can be nasty."

"I'm positive," her blue husband assured her, pressing his own free hand down on top of hers, demonstrating that his hurts were minimal. "For one thing, the properties of the protective fabrics I make are considerably more advanced and sophisticated than a simple bulletproof vest. It doesn't just block the hit for you, it also absorbs the concussive impact and spreads it out over the entire surface of the fabric. The bodysuits I wear under my costumes can take a _lot _more punishment and leave me pretty much unhurt. Since the vest was smaller, it couldn't handle quite as much, but six bullets? No problem. And getting my healing salve onto it right away helped, a lot. I can still feel some bruising, but it's hardly anything, and it'll be gone by morning."

Roxanne was understandably relieved, especially when she deliberately pressed her knuckles into his chest to test just how much he might be understating things to keep her from worrying. Megamind didn't wince or groan; he laughed, and batted her hand away. "Keep doing that, and you'll give me new bruises to put a damper on things!" he warned.

She relented. "Can't have that happening," she chuckled, reaching back to caress more lovingly the spot she'd just abused, soothing away any hurt she might have caused.

"Better," he purred, and she knew she'd succeeded.

"Good. I'm glad Minion had the foresight to leave the porch lights on, too," she said as they finally reached the front of the house. "It gets awfully dark out here without them, and I had this image of us tripping and falling over each other, trying to find the steps."

"He did think of everything," Megamind agreed, then made a odd half-laughing sound. "Even that." He pointed to the door now just a few steps away across the porch, and the huge white bow that had been placed there, like some kind of unusual wreath.

Roxanne giggled. "I wonder what bride's magazine or TV show he saw that in," she mused with a grin.

"Maybe we'll find out," the ex-villain said, indicating an envelope that had been tucked into a fold at the center of the bow. It was labeled _To Mr. & Mrs. Thejhan _in simple block letters, in gold ink.

Roxanne took the envelope, slipping one finger under the plain gold seal on the back. "I'm surprised," she had to admit. "I would've expected Minion to use silver ink, not gold."

Megamind shrugged as she drew out the folded paper within. "Maybe he thought it stood out better against the white paper. Silver does tend to fade against white. Another reason I prefer black for my working clothes."

She cocked one eyebrow at him. "Not to mention that you know you look _very _sexy in it."

He waved one hand in airy dismissal even as he returned her look with a suggestive glance of his own. "Oh, that goes without saying."

She stopped before unfolding the paper to answer his suggestion with a lingering kiss. "Soon," she promised when he made a soft, disappointed sound as she broke away. She returned her attention to the paper. "Let's see what we have here..."

"Can't it wait like all the other cards and gifts?" he pouted, sliding both arms around her waist to pull her close and give loving attention to the nearer of her ears. "It _is _our wedding night, after all."

"I suppose," she sighed, enjoying his touch and almost surrendering — until she scanned the letter. "Oh, they didn't!"

"Didn't what?" he asked distractedly, wondering if it would be terribly unheroic, not to mention illegal, to at least begin the wedding night right here.

"Minion and Wayne," she said, not pushing him away, but struggling to not respond to him in the way she wanted most, not yet. "You have to read this!"

"Read it to me," he suggested, still nibbling on her ear.

She smirked. "If you want me to read to you, you'll have to quit being quite so distracting, lover boy."

He nuzzled her hair. "Mmm, I didn't say I _wanted _you to read to me..."

She turned her head to give him a sound but quick kiss, then pulled back, smiling sweetly. "Just for a minute," she promised.

Megamind knew an act when he saw it. Roxanne's sweetness always had just enough of a bite to it to keep things interesting and him on his toes, so when she pulled this innocent Bambi-eyed face on him, he knew she was being outrageously manipulative — and he knew that she knew, which made it perfectly acceptable. He heaved a huge sigh of disappointed surrender that was equally feigned. "Oh, all right, just for a minute. But go one second more..." He offered the threat in his best sultry villain manner and voice, and she conceded.

"Deal. Listen to this."

_Dear Mykaal and Roxanne, _

_Since I'm the one writing this, I had to ask Minion to make sure I got the names spelled right — it's still a little hard for me to wrap my brain around the whole idea of you having a real name, Mykaal, since I have no idea at all what __mine__ is, or if I ever had one. But this isn't about me, it's about the two of you, and the new life you started together today. Even though I'm more than a little green with envy, I am truly happy for both of you, and hope that your life together will only grow better with the years. And Minion agrees with me, one hundred percent._

_To help make that wish come true, I want you to know that I meant what I said when I promised to help support and protect both you, Minion, and any little Thejhans who might come along in the future. The jobs both of you have taken on are probably going to present the biggest bumps and potholes in the road of the future, and whatever I can do to keep them from being too hard to take, I'll do it._

_There are two things I can do now to help toward that goal. One I've already promised: to give that interview explaining the truth of why I gave up being Metro Man so that I can give Mykaal my help — all of it — when it comes to defending the city in the future. The second is my wedding gift to both of you, my real gift: this house. _

_It's only now that I really understand how much having a place to get away from the strains and stresses of being the hero 24/7 and actually __using__ it could have done to help me decompress and recover from those things when I was Metro Man. But I didn't, and now, while I'm putting my life back together, finding my own direction, I want to give you — who have chosen your direction and your future — this house: to be a safe place to go and get away from the demands of others for a time, to be a quiet place where you can go to rest and heal, to be a happy place where you can enjoy the simpler pleasures and joys of life. As you can take refuge in each other every day, use this place to take refuge from the difficulties of the world when the rest of the world gets to be too much, or tries to own you._

_There's a lot more I can think of to say, but I'll spare you my words of wisdom for now. When you've returned home, we can finish up the formalities of the deed and whatever other paperwork might need to be done. Until then, enjoy this gift. Minion's part of it will be giving any help you might want or need in remodeling or redecorating it to suit you, and in setting up a security system to make sure it __stays__ safe when you're not here, and that keeps you safe and protected when you are. He's a great friend and a good person, and I'm glad that we're finally getting to know each other and moving beyond the past. Maybe sometime in the future, when we all have a little more room to breathe, we can all sit down together and spend time really getting to know each other._

_Congratulations once again to both of you. Be happy, stay healthy, and never forget that you have friends who love you and value your friendship._

_Wayne & Minion_

When she finished reading the letter, Roxanne handed it to Megamind, who scanned it for himself in the silence that followed. "We can't accept this — can we?" she asked, uncertain, but deeply touched.

The blue hero considered it himself for a moment or three, then shrugged, also moved. "I don't see how or why we can't. Wayne told us that his mother was going to sell the place when he first suggested we come here on vacation."

"But... this is too much!"

Megamind gave a short, soft laugh. "For who? I know I rib him about having more money than he does, but even though it's true, he has a _lot_ of assets of his own, always has. And if it's a choice between this and his latest album or a toaster, I won't say no to this. I..."

He hesitated, and Roxanne could see the lavender flush tinting his cheeks and ears. "Okay, I have to admit, I _was _thinking about making an offer for this place after we went home. I like the house, and I like this area. I know, it doesn't seem much like my usual style, but that's part of why I like it. I don't have to be anybody or anything _but_ myself here, not a hero, not a villain, not anything but what I want to be, right now. That's a _huge _relief, bigger than I ever thought it _could _be! And I get the feeling that Wayne knew that's how I'd feel about it when he suggested that we come here."

Roxanne looked at the note again, and smiled softly. "You're right, I think he did. And I feel the same way you do. I love the city and our lives there — most of the time. To know that we have a place of our own to go to whenever we want to or need to... that's a real gift. But..."

The reformed villain knew what she was going to say. "Look, if it's a matter of money — meaning that you think Wayne's spending too much of it on us — don't worry about that. I'll talk to him about it, and if he'll take it, I'll offer to give him as much of his mother's asking price as he's comfortable taking. And I'll be sure to tell him that this is for your peace of mind, not mine."

He made an extravagantly haughty face that was mostly exaggeration. "Personally, I think he owes us a _lot _more than this and I don't have any problem accepting it from him, but I want to do whatever makes _you_ happy."

Roxanne looked at him, then at the note, then back again. Finally, she smiled. "Okay, I guess this isn't something we need to decide right this moment. One way or another, it's going to be ours. I like that idea most of all."

Megamind grinned broadly. "Good! Because that lets me perform one final ritual Minion was telling me about, and when he mentioned it to me yesterday, I didn't think it would be appropriate. Possibly even in bad taste."

The blue eyes widened. "Bad taste? Why?"

He held up one hand in a dramatic gesture, belaying the question until after he'd fished the key from his pocket and unlocked and opened the door. Then with a swiftness that startled her, he swept his bride up into his arms, still grinning. "Because I didn't want to carry you over the threshold of a house that doesn't belong to us — _especially_ not a house that belongs to anyone named Scott!"

Roxanne laughed brightly, seeing his point, and happily, they continued on into the house that was now their own, kissing again even as Megamind gently kicked the door closed behind them.

* * *

_To be concluded_


	27. The Epilogue

_Author's Note: And now we come to it, the final chapter. Although I'd promised not to do this again, for the last scene, I found it exceptionally fitting to bring back "my posse" for a brief curtain call. It worked out quite well, I think. Some of the things discussed in the narrative portion of this chapter will find their ways into either one shots or parts of longer works, depending on how my Muse decides to take them. So rest assured, though this long tale is over, I'm not finished writing. There will be more to come — though not immediately. I will soon be taking a week's vacation to — where else? Sister Bay (though not to the beautiful house I chose to use as the basis for the summer house in this tale). I'll be visiting all the places I used as locations or as the inspiration for sites in this tale, and I'll be giving my arm and shoulder the rest they need to heal properly, so I can write again when I return. In the meantime, for the curious, there are photos of places like Cave Point and the wild turkeys in my gallery on DeviantArt (Sevandor). And in time, this novel, like several of my earlier MM works, will show up as an ebook download on my website._

_Until then, my deepest and most heartfelt thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and to review this two-month-long journey into romance, adventure, and the absurd. All of your continued interest kept me going when I might have given up, and in the end, I think the "vacation" was well worth it. Bless you all, and celebratory cake all around!_

* * *

XXVII

The Epilogue

On Sunday evening, after spending a very blissful day at the house — the pleasure of each other's company and all they did together made even sweeter by the knowledge that they had chosen one another, freely, lovingly, and forever — the newlyweds called Minion and Wayne, not to invite them over quite yet but to ask them to arrange for breakfast on Monday morning, at some place where they could share it with all of their guests, who would be heading back home later that day. It gave all of them an opportunity to talk as they hadn't been able to do at the wedding, to get to know one another a little bit better so that they could all be friends and family to one another, not merely distant acquaintances.

On Wednesday, with five full days of vacation still before them, Minion and Wayne returned to the boathouse, along with Pinky and Blinkie. Wayne had returned the other brainbots to the Lair on Tuesday, after Snooper, under Megamind's supervision, had given the police investigators a complete download of all the information and recordings he had concerning Mitchell's activities. Judge Crenshaw had issued an opinion that the bots' covert surveillance had not been illegal, as Megamind was essentially an official agent for various regional police authorities and Mitchell's recent actions and direct threats to Roxanne had given sufficient cause to warrant his observation as a potential danger. Although Snooper would have been permitted to remain at the lake house, he was insistent about returning with the others and Sneaker's still living core, wanting to make sure nothing happened to his partner before Daddy came home and could begin his restoration.

Before the others had returned to join them, Roxanne and Megamind had discussed the question of extending their vacation time, and had decided that for now, they would return home as scheduled. It wasn't that they didn't want to spend more time there, or that they felt they'd had enough of a honeymoon, but rather that there were too many things that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible that required their presence back in Metro City. Setting up and planning the interview with Wayne, giving KMCP the exclusive Roxanne had promised concerning the marriage of top reporter to former kidnapper, restoring Sneaker to retrieve all the data he'd collected on Mitchell, rebuilding Minion's damaged gorilla cybersuit, and in general making sure that all was quiet on the home front. So they spent the remainder of their last week relaxing and recovering from the wedding and in general having as much fun as they could. When they left, it was not with the wistfulness of something ended, but rather with the promise of something that could be returned to, whenever they wished.

Their homecoming was welcomed by both those who had genuinely missed them and those who had been desperate for more information since the first rumors of their engagement had leaked. The local bridal industry was sorely disappointed to find that the couple had already been married, thankyouverymuch, and thus had no need to drop a bundle on their services, but the police were relieved, since that saved them the task of having to provide the extra security that celebrity weddings always required. Jack Kincaid was not only delighted to be the head of the station that got all the exclusive pictures and videos and interviews, but he was tremendously relieved to hear that Stewart Mitchell had totally flipped his lid, thus taking from him the burden of needing to continue investigating the man.

In fact, the whole situation surrounding Mitchell was given an unexpected assist when one Leo Zaleski came forward, offering to provide all manner of evidence concerning the man's various highly illegal activities in exchange for some protection from prosecution for himself. Stalking and sexual harassment of co-workers were, according to evidence Zaleski produced, among Mitchell's more innocent hobbies. Many of the women he had "taken a shine to" disappeared and were never heard from again.

A fair number of those who did eventually turn up had managed to escape from the persons to whom they'd been sold, generally — but not always — overseas. Mitchell was known in the least savory sections of the underworld as a "marriage broker" for wealthy men with "discriminating" tastes. He had been working as a television producer because it put him in a position to find the kinds of women his clients could afford, and he enjoyed the sort of life it gave him, and the sort of women he had the pleasure of "sampling" before turning them over to the men who would purchase them. It was an ideal situation to him, letting him enjoy beautiful, often moderate celebrity-status women who would then vanish without a trace.

Zaleski had been sucked into his flesh-peddling racket when Mitchell needed a hacker to clean up some records that could have caused serious trouble for him. At the time, Leo had been deep in debt, right out of college and buried under several tons of student loans without so much as a job prospect for scrubbing toilets at a fast food joint. Once snared by Mitchell he became trapped, bound to keep on helping him under threat of having his complicity in grossly illegal activities revealed. While he admittedly enjoyed the challenge of some of the complex hacking jobs he did for Mitchell, he had been feeling more and more that the risks of continuing weren't adequately balanced by what Mitchell was paying him.

This whole business with Roxanne Ritchi had been the last straw. Mitchell's behavior had been strange from the very start. This hadn't been one of his usual plots for grabbing a profitable woman for some well-paying client; there had been atypical personal angles in it. For one, Zaleski had known for years that his "boss" was a racist and an all-around bigot; he had often made tasteless jokes about Leo's Polish Catholic background, and would often have denigrating things to say about the foreigners who hired him, the women he trapped, and anyone who didn't fit into his very narrow definition of acceptable humanity.

When Megamind had been nothing more than a hyperactive, over-dramatic, totally ludicrous loser of a so-called supervillain — Mitchell's description, Zaleski was quick to point out, not his own — Mitchell had been perfectly happy to blow him off as a joke, obviously no threat to the purity of the human race. The moment he gave up his criminal ways, Mitchell began to harbor suspicions that the alien was a scout, sent to infiltrate Earth society with the objective of eventually calling in his kind to conquer the world.

When he began to date Roxanne Ritchi and it became apparent that she returned his feelings to some degree, Mitchell had felt Megamind was becoming more dangerous, a threat not only to the planet but to a woman he had begun to obsessively believe was destined to be his, and no one else's. When he heard that the two of them were now living together, he began to make plans to "bring her back into the fold" by making her his own. Zaleski had wanted to warn them of Mitchell's intentions more than once, but fear that he would wind up exposing his involvement in the producer's criminal activities had kept his mouth shut.

Now with Mitchell safely behind bars, Leo was finally able to come forward and start singing like an entire flock of songbirds, hoping that it would keep the bastard incarcerated for the rest of his unnatural life. Aware of the man's ability to become violent when his plans went badly wrong and he had someone on whom he could pin the blame, Leo had actually ferreted out the unlisted number for the Scott house in Sister Bay and had tried to call it, to warn them; when that failed, he'd managed to dig up Roxanne's cell number and had tried calling that, again without luck as she'd left it at the house. He'd considered calling the police in Sister Bay, but he didn't know what to tell them that wouldn't somehow backfire.

When he discovered that Mitchell had gone both ballistic and bonkers and was now in custody pending trial, he knew he'd never have a better chance to try cutting some kind of plea bargain to get out of this vicious circle he'd become mired in. Leo hadn't deluded himself with fantasies of walking away free as a bird, but he was able to provide the authorities with so much information about Mitchell's illegal activities — some of which allowed them to solve long-standing missing persons cases across the country, others of which helped them to locate and recover several prominent missing women — they were willing to be remarkably lenient.

Even Megamind had encouraged them to cut Zaleski some slack, since though he and Roxanne had come within a hair's breadth of being killed, he knew what it was like to feel trapped in a life that had become not a destiny, but a living nightmare. There was undeniable evidence that the man had indeed tried to warn them, in the form of voice mails and answering machine messages on the phones he'd called on their wedding day. Leo did wind up doing time, but mostly in a minimum security prison, with a lot of his sentence spent in work release, helping develop better security software for sensitive and vulnerable databases.

Mitchell ended up being declared legally insane — but only for his last, and least serious, crimes. Thanks to Leo's evidence and testimony, the much, much longer list of abductions, murders, and trafficking of slaves were held as having been committed while he was fully sane and competent. There was no doubt that he would never again be free, and a very strong possibility that eventually, the trial for one of the crimes that he had committed in a state with capital punishment would end with him on Death Row.

All in all, both Roxanne and the entire management staff of KMCP decided it would be a very good idea for them to never again hire anyone with the first, middle, or last name Stewart.

Another very positive upshot of their vacation concerned the way Metro City's police and emergency services had responded to being on their own, without any kind of defender to do their jobs for them. While it was agreed that none of the emergencies that had come up in Megamind's absence had been anything extraordinary, a number of them had been things that for years, they had let their superheroes handle with minimal support. The brainbots had done a great deal to help in some of the more dangerous situations, but the often underworked police and firemen had stepped up fully for a change, and discovered that unless they'd completely forgotten their training, they were much more capable than they had expected they could be.

This really came as no surprise to either Megamind or Minion — or Wayne. The retired hero had long felt that the biggest reason behind the seemingly utter helplessness of all the citizens of Metro City was of his own making, in never learning to say no to them. He knew that he had been raised to thrive on the attention he was given as a superhero, and for many years, he had been perfectly happy living with that status quo.

But as he had begun to feel more and more confined by and trapped in that life, he had had to face the bitter truth: that he had walked into that gilded cage freely, had let others lock it, and had never checked his own pockets to find that he held the key. Though the people who took advantage of his presence to rely on him for everything were responsible for their actions, he was also responsible for teaching them how they could treat him and what they could expect of him, simply by never refusing them when he should have.

That particular discussion — about the valuable wisdom of learning when to say no and sticking to it consistently — was had at the Lair two weeks after their return from vacation, when the initial hubbub over the wedding had died down a bit, and Megamind had finally invited Wayne into the living areas he had kept secret for so long. The musician had been suitably impressed — shocked, actually, especially when he discovered that every bit of the place had been built, shaped, carved, decorated, whatever by hand, and almost entirely by Megamind, using mostly scavenged items for the raw materials, fashioned and constructed over almost twenty years.

Some parts had been saved and moved when the Lair had needed to be relocated, but for a long while, Megamind and fought tenaciously to keep this one place — this single haven he had built inside an old abandoned shell of what had originally been a power plant, and later had been used as a warehouse — safe from discovery and destruction. Hence, he had set up his network of auxiliary lairs around the city, places which he had used as staging areas for his elaborate plans and villainous schemes that could be abandoned or destroyed with impunity, leaving his home intact.

It was a side of his former foe that Wayne had never even suspected existed, and being introduced to it now was, he understood, a significant act of trust. It was the moment in which he knew he had been truly accepted as a friend, and was offered friendship in return. It was a gift he did not take lightly, and so he had opened up to his new friend, telling him as much as he knew of the pitfalls of being Metro City's hero in residence.

As always, Minion had prepared the excellent dinner that evening and for a change shared it with the other members of his family, allowing three of the best trained household bots to do the serving. Roxanne had declared that, contrary to the opinion of some women at the station, married life did not suddenly, magically improve her domestic skills, nor make her inexplicably want to spend the time needed to do. Much as she loved her new husband, she also loved her career, and as both her personal and professional lives blossomed, she had no inclination to spend what free time she had in learning to become a good little housewife.

This was not an issue with either Megamind or Minion. The ichthyoid genuinely enjoyed cooking and sewing, two skills that he took especial pride in because of the fact that he _was _a fish, and they were abilities no fish on this world had ever needed or been able to learn, much less master. And Megamind didn't see why Roxanne should be expected to pursue anything that didn't interest her, particularly not when someone else in their family enjoyed those things so very much and there were scores of brainbots to handle the less pleasant chores of maintaining a household.

In their years of villainy, the blue alien knew that he'd been horribly insensitive and had expected Minion to take care of such mundane matters simply because he always had. Since their switch to heroism, when Minion wanted or needed help, he asked for it, and Megamind had done what he could to be of assistance. But to expect Roxanne to take over household chores simply because she was a woman was, in both his and Minion's opinion, a terribly antiquated and sexist attitude, not to mention a complete waste of her true talents.

So that evening, they were all able to talk over dinner, and after. Wayne had offered his advice, then he and the newlyweds had settled on just how much of the lake house should properly be his wedding gift. He wanted to pay for it all, Roxanne insisted that he pay only a third, and they eventually compromised on half. Anything less than that, Wayne insisted, would not make it a proper gift in his eyes, and Megamind completely agreed (though he had leaned more toward the idea of Wayne paying for two-thirds, just on general formerly evil principles).

The time for his interview that would reveal the whole truth of his "retirement" was also agreed upon: mid-November, right around the date that his adoptive parents had chosen as his birthday. It seemed fitting to Wayne for him to come clean at the beginning of a new year in his life, as it was certain to be the opening of another chapter in it. That date would give all of them time to prepare for it, since no one held any illusions that this wouldn't have some kind of repercussions for them all. Roxanne wanted to handle things as carefully as possible, to minimize the potential negative uproar Wayne's confessions might cause, and waiting until then also allowed her and Megamind to take a proper week off in early October as their official honeymoon.

They discussed going to a number of exotic locations where there would be warm and sunny beaches and new things to see — all now made possible by the full Presidential pardon that had been given to Megamind as a wedding gift from the White House.

That timing seemed a little odd, but in giving it, the president had said that it was fitting. Over the past two years and more, the ex-villain had more than proved the validity of his reformation. His decision to make the commitment of marriage to the very woman whose life he had disrupted and her eager acceptance of him demonstrated how very much he had changed. While consenting adults living together was no crime and certainly nothing unusual in this day and age, Megamind's desire to make a legal and binding commitment to Roxanne was the final proof of his changed heart. Though the pardon would have gone through eventually regardless, granting it now was a sort of stamp of approval not just on the marriage itself, but on Megamind's respectful decisions to help rather than hurt the society of which he was a part.

But in the end, they decided to return to Sister Bay. The area was quieter now — except on the weekends, when flocks of tourists showed up to gawk at the magnificent display of nature decked out in her blazing fall colors, something that ultra-urban Metro saw in such panoply only via televised reports from well outside the city.

Minion, while interested in seeing such a thing up close for the first time, had declared that there would be other autumns but only one honeymoon for his two best friends and had thus forestalled any suggestion that he come along. Moreover, it was his turn to experience a first: his first time not merely filling in for Megamind as the city's defender, but taking on that job as his recently and publicly declared partner in heroism. He wanted to see how the various local authorities and emergency services dealt with his changed status, and in the end was very pleased with and proud of the results. They'd always liked Minion, many of them even back in the evil old days, and they treated him with all the respect that Megamind himself now gave him.

It was a very happy and heady week for the ichthyoid, especially since he now had a new and improved version of his old gorilla suit to do his hero work in. He and Megamind had also decided that the humanoid cybersuit he'd used during their vacation wouldn't go into permanent retirement, but would be used when a more human and less intrusive appearance was desirable — with a few minor modifications that would allow Minion to stay in touch with the brainbots and thus avoid the problem that had occurred due to a lack of communications during the wedding.

Wayne once again volunteered to help if help was needed, but until after the interview and his confession to the public, he decided it would be best to keep a low profile on that front. Instead, he devoted more of his time to his music, and to figuring out just what kind of balance he hoped to strike in his future life. He also took advantage of this time — when people still thought of him as the non-superpowered Wayne Scott — to explore possibilities in expanding his social life, in search of the first tenuous connections that might someday lead him to the happiness Roxanne and Megamind had found with each other.

On the last day of September, the final closing on the lake house was completed, and became the official and legal property of Mykaal and Roxanne Thejhan. During the following week, Minion and a crew of brainbots went up to install all the subtle but powerful security measures that would keep the place safe from anyone who might try to accost either them or their property, whether they were there or not. To any curiosity seekers who might happen by, there was nothing to give away who owned the place, and the actual neighbors had decided they liked Megamind and Roxanne during their month-long vacation, and had no trouble keeping an eye on the place, as they had done for the Scotts when they were not in residence.

The next Friday, the couple departed for their quiet honeymoon. During that week, they came to know not only the beauties of the area in the fall, but the beauty of their lives, not as hero and reporter or celebrity couple, but as two people who deeply respected and passionately loved and thoroughly took joy in one another.

oooooooooo

On Tuesday morning of that week, they decided it was time to go out and about and actually _see _the gorgeous autumn scenery they had supposedly come to gawk at. Having had enough of each other's cooking — some of which had convinced them that they _really _needed to either enroll in a cooking course or have Minion tutor them for times like this, when they were without their live-in chef — they headed out to have breakfast at the little café they'd come to love in the tiny town.

The owners and regular staff who'd been there in August were delighted to see them, and treated them like old friends who had lived there for years. Being outside the usual weekend days when the "leafers" came in droves to view the autumn-clad trees, the café was quiet, but not quite empty. Sitting in the same corner where they'd been on that evening in August was the quartet of regular visitors from Milwaukee, who'd been the first to show them pictures of and explain to them such sites as Cave Point, which had wound up playing a significant part in the high points of their vacation.

"We heard you got married at Cave Point a week or two after we left," Rosemary said with great enthusiasm after greetings had been exchanged. "You're so lucky! I know that's where I'd want to do it, if I ever got married, it's so beautiful."

"It wasn't so beautiful during a storm the week before," Roxanne said with a smile as they took the seats they'd occupied at their last encounter. She looked at Kate. "You were _so _right about it being very different in bad weather — and he just _had _to check it out in the middle of the worst thunderstorm!"

Jeanne whistled at the very idea; Kate shook her head. "Wow, we were never quite that gutsy! You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Megamind shook his head. "No — well, I didn't, but Roxanne got a little sore from sliding down that slope and nearly falling off the bluff in the heavy rain."

She snorted. "Yes, _and _from getting tossed into a tree by my rescuer! I think I may have permanent scars from where some of the branches poked me in the butt."

"You're perfectly fine," her husband replied with a smirk that was perilously close to a leer. "Not even a scratch left, last time I checked."

Roxanne swatted him with the napkin she'd been unfolding, laughing. The others were smiling. "So, does married life agree with you?" James wondered. "We've heard some really outrageous stories about the wedding on a few of those TV gossip shows."

"Oh, I totally believe the part about the whack job with a gun showing up," Jeanne opined. "Weddings have a way of bringing the crazies out of the woodwork. What I want to know is was Wayne Scott _really _the Maid of Honor?"

"Oh, yeah!" Rosemary agreed. "And did he actually show up in a kilt? Full Highland Dress or just a casual version?"

Both Roxanne and Megamind blinked at her, completely at a loss. "I know it's terrible for someone with a Scottish family background to admit it," Roxanne confessed, "but what's the difference? Isn't a kilt a kilt?"

Most of the others chuckled. "Oooh, don't say that in front of Rosemary," Jeanne warned. "She's a major-league aficionado of anything Scottish — you'll get a twenty minute lecture off a question like that!"

Rosemary blushed but smiled, knowing it was true. Megamind had a better solution. "They say a picture's worth a million words," he said, gesturing meaningfully to Roxanne.

"It's only a thousand, sweetie," she said as she reached for the satchel purse she'd set on an empty chair, "but you're right, it's easier to show than to explain." She pulled out his iPad and handed it to him.

James grinned. "What, don't superheroes use man-bags to carry their own gadgets?" he asked, clearly teasing since he had a small black leather satchel that he toted about for that very purpose.

"Not when they keep forgetting it and leaving it behind," was Roxanne's droll explanation.

"I'm not used to keeping track of things like that," Megamind defended as he flipped open the cover, tapped in the unlock code, and went looking for the appropriate photo album. "I'm used to having things attached to me, like a cape or a gun belt or pockets and jetpacks. Ah, here! The brainbots took so many pictures of Wayne at the wedding, we had to give him an entire album of his own. Some of them are rather ridiculous," he added with a wicked chuckle.

"He didn't go commando, did he?" Kate asked as Megamind handed the Pad to Jeanne, who passed it to Rosemary for her expert opinion. "With the winds at the Point, that could be _very _embarrassing...!"

"He didn't, thank God," Roxanne said with great fervor. "There wasn't much wind until later in the day. He did have a couple of Marilyn Monroe moments during the reception, but not during the ceremony. "

"It's not quite the full formal Highland outfit," Rosemary declared after examining some of the pictures. "But it's pretty close. Is that a legitimate tartan?"

"He _said _it was," Megamind answered a bit dubiously. "I'll admit that it's not my area of expertise, but it seemed rather odd and convenient that this just happened to be in shades of blue — _not _his usual color."

"It might be a monochrome variation," the retired librarian postulated. "They can be done for special occasions or specific purposes..." She launched into an explanation of tartan variations that might indeed have gone on for a while, had Jeanne and Kate not taken the iPad from her to have a look at the other pictures in the album. They came across some of the ridiculous ones Megamind had mentioned, including a "Marilyn Monroe" shot that Roxanne had spoken of, with a sudden gust of wind blowing Wayne's kilt up and exposing his white boxers covered with absurdly bright metallic gold stars.

"Funny, I always figured him for a briefs kind of guy," Kate quipped through her laughter. "Don't boxers bunch up and get uncomfortable under tights?"

"I wouldn't know," his successor said with a crooked smile, but would not elaborate.

Roxanne cleared her suddenly dry throat and leaned over to touch one of the controls on the iPad's screen, calling up the directory page for the photo albums. "I think he has half that thing crammed with photos and videos of the wedding and the reception," she said, shooting her still ever-so-innocent spouse a scolding but amused glance.

"Actually, I do," Megamind readily admitted. "I was hoping we might run into the four of you while we were here this week."

All four looked rather surprised. "Oh?" Jeanne said in a neutral tone that nonetheless betrayed a hint of suspicion.

The blue genius nodded. "You were the ones who first told us about the Point and showed us your pictures of it when we first came here on vacation. It became a very special place to us, and when we decided to get married there, I felt sorry that we couldn't ask you to come because we had no idea how to contact you. We didn't even know your last names."

Now, the foursome looked considerably more than surprised. "Why would you want to invite us?" James asked. "You only met us that one time, and almost anyone could've shown you pictures and told you stories about Cave Point."

Roxanne, however, understood what he meant, and gave Megamind an encouraging nod, placing one hand over his.

He explained. "Yes, we only met that one time, but that was the first time since I was a little boy that people ever made me feel so... comfortable, so accepted, in just a few minutes! I felt so relaxed that I even told you my real name without thinking about it, and I'd never done that before. It was important to me. If I hadn't been able to feel that way so quickly, I probably would've wanted to head home much sooner than I should've, I wouldn't have gotten the rest I really did need, and I'm afraid I wouldn't have worked up the nerve to ask Roxanne to marry me. Maybe eventually, but still half burned out, I think it would've taken much longer. Things might've just gone back to the lousy way they'd been, or even gotten worse. "

He raised his wife's hand to his lips and softly kissed it, smiling. "Now that I know what I do, I can see that I would've been a fool to miss out on even one more minute of what we have together. So I was hoping to see all of you again, to thank you. That evening helped me in ways I didn't begin to really understand until you'd gone home, and no one here who recognized you knew exactly who you were or how to contact you."

The four were speechless for a good minute, which for them was quite remarkable. "I'm glad we could help," Rosemary was finally the first to say. "Though we weren't really doing anything unusual for us."

"That's for sure," Jeanne seconded. "We'll run off at the mouth with total strangers with virtually no provocation. It's just the way we are."

Megamind nodded vigorously. "I know, and that's what made such a difference! You treated me like I was just another person visiting here for the first time, not like a celebrity or a freak or anything out of the ordinary. It was great! I'd never had an experience quite like that before, and it made me look at the whole idea of a vacation as something that could be _good, _not something I had to endure until it was time to go home."

He sighed. "I'm probably making this sound a whole lot more complex than it actually is. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated it, you being so friendly and accepting when you didn't have to be. And since you weren't here for the wedding — and we haven't given much in the way of the _really_ interesting pictures or videos to the media — I thought you'd like to see that." He pointed to the image-filled iPad currently in James' hands.

Roxanne grinned as she returned the kiss to the back of her spouse's blue hand. "Yeah, I don't know what all he put on there, but I know he crammed a bunch of videos in along with the photos. I just hope you didn't put in anything embarrassing," she warned him with a lethal glare that wouldn't have harmed a gnat.

He laughed. "Not to us, though there _is _a really nice video of you slinging Mitchell's cube out into the middle of Sister Bay, then kicking him back into the water after the brainbots fished him out..."

"Oh, I've gotta see that!" Kate enthused, reaching for the Pad. "We heard that some nutcase showed up at the wedding..."

"Nutcase my eye!" Rosemary, the former prison librarian, snorted. "I've seen the news reports. The guy turned out to be a _major _felon and sex offender of the worst kind!"

_"Alleged_ major felon and sex offender of the worst kind," Roxanne, ever the precise journalist, corrected. "Though the evidence is _very _heavily against him. I'm glad I didn't know about any of his past history while he was stalking me, though. Lord only knows if he really was planning to keep me for himself, or figured he'd sell me to some sicko overseas when he got bored with me."

"Or on the east coast," Megamind added darkly. "He had plenty of 'clients' right here in North America. And if any of them ever show their faces within five hundred miles of Metro City..." His tone promised the most dire of consequences.

It wasn't the threat that caused Roxanne to start. "Hey, you said 'Metro City,' sweetie! Not 'Metrocity.'"

He wrinkled his nose and waved one hand in a casually dismissive fashion. "Did I? Complete slip of the tongue, nothing more." But his wink said that perhaps he was considering an occasional correct pronunciation of the place he defended, just to mess with people's heads.

"Oh, jeeze, what a great shot to the face!" Rosemary said as the video she was leaning over to watch showed Roxanne giving Mitchell a good solid kick right in the mouth and back into the bay.

"Does this Pad have the 3G connection?" James wondered. "We could link it to mine if it does, so we don't all have to crowd around the one screen." _We _now included two of the waitstaff who hadn't been in town on the day of the wedding, but had heard much of it from those who'd been there.

"It does," Megamind confirmed as he stood up, "but I've got the access pretty heavily encrypted. Let me get into the settings and clear you..."

"You don't have to go all computer geek, hon," Roxanne said, even as he went over to make the adjustments and the two men started to talk tech-speak at each other. She reached into her satchel to produce another iPad. "I let you put all that stuff on mine, just in case."

But the blue hero merely grinned cheerfully. "Great, then everybody can watch! Don't worry about our food," he told the two staffers and the now-curious hostess who had wandered over to see what the excitement was about. "We can eat later. With three screens, there should be room enough for everyone to see clearly."

"Can we link mine in?" Kate wanted to know, hauling up her bag from the floor. "It's only a wi-fi type, but a fourth screen might help..."

"Do you have the Bump app...?"

Jeanne gave Roxanne an amused look as the reporter handed off her iPad to be passed on to the intrigued staff members. "Don't tell me, he got it for you as a wedding present," the older woman guessed, recalling that Roxanne hadn't had one when they'd met two months ago.

The younger brunette smiled broadly, tucking a stray strand of her bangs behind one ear. "Among other things. Mykaal got tired of me always wanting to use his a long time ago, and it was a good excuse to get me one of my own."

"Oh, no need to explain. Kate and Rosemary had iPad Envy something awful after I first got mine. And I'm married to a techno geek myself — electronics and their accessories are standards on the gift list for all occasions. But it's okay. I do use 'em, and he loves to share these passionate interests of his with me. I know he just wants to make me happy, and indulging his obsessions for gizmos and gadgets once in a while isn't too big a price to pay to see _him_ happy — is it?"

Roxanne's eyes went to Megamind. He was fairly glowing with the delight of being able to show off his ingenious security methods to someone other than Minion who actually understood what he was talking about, and he almost danced with glee while he explained something about one of Blinkie's better videos to the fascinated employees, who were amazed to hear that the photographer had been one of his little robotic helpers. It was the energetic, boyishly enthusiastic side of him that she'd long since fallen in love with, and seeing him relaxed and able to behave like any happy, excited, and friendly person who was accepted just as he was — big head, blue skin, pointy ears, geeky interests, checkered past and all — warmed her more than she could say, and made her love him all the more.

"No," Roxanne agreed wholeheartedly, her wide smile sparkling in her eyes as brightly as the rings on her finger. "It's not too much to pay. In fact, it's really a bargain."

The End


End file.
